


Lost Boy

by Pigeonsplotinsecrecy



Series: Lost and Found [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Abuse, Found Family, Kidnapping, Team as Family, jack is Mac's brother, jack is Riley's dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-07-10 04:20:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy/pseuds/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy
Summary: When Mac was five years old, he was kidnapped by James MacGyver. When he begins working alongside a guy called Jack Dalton at the Phoenix Foundation, an organization working on behalf of missing and exploited children, Mac starts to remember things he’d rather forget.When Jack’s baby brother was kidnapped, his whole world changed. He finished up his tour in the military and signed up to work at the Phoenix Foundation because chances were he’d never get his brother back, but he wanted to help kids like Michael, who had been taken from their homes and uprooted from happy and healthy lives.





	1. First Day on the Job

“Matty, the last thing I need is to be saddled with is some new kid.” Jack complained as Matty tried to prepare him for the new kid Jack was being tasked to train. The last thing he needed was to deal with some newbie had no idea what the job actually entailed.

“Jack, this kid could be our boss if he wanted to. He’s a certified genius. Finished school at fifteen, graduated summa cum laude from MIT three years later, and has since revolutionized bomb disarmament techniques. He could have his pick of jobs, but he chose to come here, and I don’t want you messing that up just because you’re a stubborn cowboy who can’t play nice.”

“What does some bigshot genius know about helping missing and exploited kids? My mama knows more about this job than that spoiled genius. You’d be better off hiring her. Kid probably thinks he’s hot shit too.”

“Jack, his name is Angus MacGyver, not ‘kid.’” Matty shot him a “you better behave yourself” look, but Jack wasn’t known for being on his best behavior.

“Oh great, adding Carl’s Jr. to the team. This just keeps on getting better.”

“I’m certain he’s going to be a competent addition to this team. I wouldn’t have brought him on if he wasn’t. Can you play nice?”

“I’m not going to let him slack off. He has to be fully committed to what we do here. This can’t just be a job.”

“I know this is personal for you, Jack.”

“My brother’s been gone a long time.”

“But you’ve never given up hope on finding him.”

“How could I? How could anyone accept a child just vanishing? Matty, my mother still hasn’t touched his room. It’s not the Dalton way to give up. Until he died, Pops hoped that someday Michael would come back to us. That’s why I’m here.”

“And Angus MacGyver has his own reasons for being here. Most people here haven’t had their little brothers kidnapped, but they still do good work, don’t they?”

Jack sighed. “I just don’t get good vibes from this kid.”

“Don’t dislike him just because you’re too stubborn to like him.”

Jack grinned, “Now, would I ever do that?”

***

“Why’d you choose to work here?” the guy showing Mac around questioned. The guy, who’d introduced himself as Jack, would make a good interrogator with all the grilling he’d been doing in the five minutes they’d been talking. It was starting to get on Mac’s nerves, but he didn’t want to get too combatant on his first day.

Mac shrugged, not sure what Jack wanted from him. He’d already been nervous for his first day, and now this asshole was playing a game of twenty questions with him. The question itself was simple enough, but it was the “you better have a good answer” look in Jack’s eyes that made Mac nervous. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to impress his new coworker. “I guess I just wanted to do something that mattered.” It wasn’t an inspired answer but was a truthful one.

“There’s no room for anyone here who isn’t going to take this job seriously,” Jack’s gruff voice warned. Mac wondered why anyone wouldn’t take missing and exploited kids seriously.

Mac kept a neutral tone, “I’m completely serious about it.”

“Kids like you are always coming in here acting like you know shit. You want to help until you realize how hard this job is.” Mac froze. _Oh, great. I’ve been partnered with a bully. I’ve had enough of those in my life._

“I have a lot to offer,” Mac defended himself. He’d been working on standing up for his interests with his therapist. He wasn’t going to let some guy he didn’t even know demean him. The barrage of questions was bad enough, but the rest was completely unprofessional. “I’ve read—"

“You can’t get what you need to know about this job from a book. Missing kids aren’t statistics. They’re real people, so you better keep that in mind, or we won’t get along.”

“Maybe you should try focusing on your job instead of trying these scare tactics on me, G.I. Jack.”

“What are you trying to say, Carl’s Jr.? You think _I’m_ not serious? What are you? Twenty-three? I’ve been doing this before you could even read.”

“Twenty-five, and I’ve been reading since I was three, so maybe not.” A pang hit Jack’s chest, as he thought of precocious Michael who as a kindergartner was already chapter books on his own. He was the same age as Michael would have been too. Plus, the blond hair and blue eyes were like Michael’s too. Jack had often wondered if Michael’s hair would have darkened like blond children’s hair often did. Regardless, the resemblance made Jack both want to protect the kid and hate him with a bitter resolve for being the one who got to grow up while Michael was most likely dead. (Jack didn’t like to believe that. He still had hope.) Every child deserved to grow up, but Michael more than anyone. He would have made the world a better place. That was a sad thing about missing children; they all missed out on the greatness they might’ve been.

Michael had been an unexpected. Jack’s mom had been older, meaning it had been a high-risk pregnancy, but while he came two months early, tiny and prune-y, he’d been a welcome addition to the family. Already grown up with a new infant of his own, the last thing Jack had anticipated was a little brother, but the minute those little fingers grasped his hand, Jack was a goner. He vowed to protect little Michael just as ferociously as he protected his own daughter, Riley. He loved the idea of his daughter and brother growing up together. His mama had loved it too. She’d complained about being too old for a baby, but Jack had seen that longing in her eyes when Riley had been born. His mother loved being a mother more than anything else, and he knew that his mama would always have a special soft spot for her miracle baby.

But, then, after only five years, that child had been taken from them, and even twenty years later, Mama refused to touch Michael’s room. Jack had tried to get her at least to put the stuff away, so that there wasn’t the constant reminder of her lost son, but she’d refused. He couldn’t blame her. He didn’t like the idea of shoving the stuff into boxes to gather dust either.

“The work we do here is important. I don’t want you messing that up.”

“You don’t know anything about me, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t assume why I’m here. I’m not just here because I wanted to annoy some hard ass from Texas. I came here because I believe in what this foundation does, and I want to help those kids.”

“Spout all the bullshit rhetoric you want, but just do your job right, and maybe you’ll be tolerable.”

“Just you wait. You’ll wonder how you ever ran this place without me.”


	2. The Case Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team deals with an old case...

It was Mac’s first briefing session at the Phoenix foundation, and he felt a little nervous being the new guy in a room full of coworkers who seemed to know exactly what they were doing. While everyone else was nice, Jack had been less than welcoming. Mac wasn’t sure he was going to be able to cut through that gruff exterior.

Riley was the team’s tech wiz and Jack’s daughter. She seemed to be aware of her father’s shortcomings and wasn’t shy about calling him out on them. She said to Mac when they were alone, “My dad can act tough, but he’s a softie. This is all just very personal to him, and he doesn’t want anything to get in the way of the work we do here. He means well. Don’t let him being a jackass scare you away.” Her words were a small relief, but at least Mac knew the whole team didn’t hate him. _Remember what Dr. Adams said: “you are likable. Not everyone hates you. You’re worthy of love.”_

Bozer had been nice too. He was like a bubby little puppy. He didn’t seem to have a specific job title but did a mishmash of things, which fit his personality. He spent a lot of his time working with a robot called Sparky and making masks that Mac couldn’t figure out the purpose of. Regardless, Bozer had a good work ethic, and Mac could see him becoming good friends with the guy. He was a lot to take in all at once, but he was the most welcoming of the group. He’d even invited Mac to hang out of work a couple times. Mac had felt too beholden to Bozer’s kindness to say no to the offer, even though it made him nervous.

Matty, of course, was the boss, who oversaw their team and the other Phoenix teams. Mac wasn’t sure what to make of her yet. She’d definitely have it in her to destroy anyone who even threatened to hurt a child. She was intimidating but would give Jack sharp looks whenever he was making snide remarks to Mac. Those two had an interesting relationship, a love-hate banter that secretly amused Mac.

There were some others too— Desi and Leanna, who all seemed nice enough but hadn’t interacted with Mac too much. He wasn’t sure where he stood in their eyes, which made his nerves even worse, but he kept reminding himself that no one hated him. Except maybe Jack. Still, it was hard to tell how they felt. Some of his team members had such good poker faces that he couldn’t tell if they wanted to be his friend or wanted him dead (he hoped not the latter).

“The Cold Case Unit has flagged a possibly undetected serial kidnapper. There are several cases across the country that we believe match this perpetrator’s MO, but we’re still trying to sort out all the cases from the past couple decades to sort through all the missing kids who meet the description. This guy is a frequent offender, and we suspect he may still be active, which would make him one of the most prolific serial offenders we’ve dealt with. Point is, we need to get this guy off the streets, and find out what happened to these kids.”

“Wait, this guy’s been doing this for so long. Why did we only just put all these cases together?”

“He’s a state hopper, so unfortunately it’s easy for him to go under our radar. More critically, one of the kids was found alive. Eight-year-old Tommy Matthews, missing for three years, was found wandering alongside a country road in Nebraska. The weird part is he kept repeating ‘I want to see my brothers.’”

“What’s so weird about that?” Riley asked.

“Tommy Matthews doesn’t have brothers.”

Jack looked confused. “What are you saying, Matty?”

Mac cut in, “She thinks there might be other kids still alive.”

“Like a little family of kidnapped kids?” Jack asked dumbfounded. “How many kids do we think this guy took?”

“That’s what we’re going to work to find out, but we think this guy has been doing it for at least twenty-five years.”

“How do we know he’s been at it that long?”

“Tommy Matthews was able to tell us that his oldest brother was thirty, and the youngest one was five.”

“Hold on, are you saying these kids are still alive?” Bozer asked.

“That’s why this case is so urgent. We think these kids are taken when they’re five years old and raised to be part of some twisted family.”

“My brother was five,” Jack blurted, and Mac startled at the wild look in his eyes. _He’s not going to hurt you._

“What?” Shock was filling Mac’s stomach as he tried to make sense of the words.

“My brother was five when he was taken from us. He could be one of those kids. They never found a body.” No wonder Jack took his job so seriously.

“Jack,” Matty said cautiously, “You know how many children go missing each year. It’s probably unrelated.”

“But it could be related. Michael could still be there. I need to talk to that kid.”

“Dad, he’s gone. Michael is long gone.”

“We don’t know that.” Mac stayed quiet, not wanting to get involved in a family squabble. “I’m going to find him, Riley. You two were best friends as kids, and I’m going to bring him back to you.”

Riley looked mad. “Isn’t twenty years of hoping enough for you? You can’t live the rest of your life hoping that a dead kid will come back. Look at what it’s done to Granma. She won’t even move to a new house in case Michael comes back. She’s left his room as a shrine, and it’s like her whole life revolves around a person who’s never coming home.”

“Let’s not do this here,” Jack said through gritted teeth. Mac could tell Jack had a lot to say on the matter but wasn’t going to do it with a near stranger in the room. “And don’t disrespect your grandma. She’s been through a lot. You can’t know the pain she’s been through.”

Riley threw an arm around her dad’s shoulder, looking crestfallen now. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed when Michael isn’t found.”

Jack gave her a kiss on the head. “I know, honey. Hope is a dangerous thing, but it’s worth having.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Matty cleared her throat, “If you’re done with the father-daughter bonding. We have work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but I hope you enjoy this. Feel free to leave feedback. I love hearing from all you lovely people.


	3. Friction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case goes on frustratingly, but mostly, Mac and Jack can't seem to get over their difference (or similarities...)

Jack was at his desk sulking because Matty wouldn’t let him go interview the kidnapped kid, Tommy Matthews, who had recently been found. The FBI’s interview with the eight-year-old had suggested that there were an unknown number of other missing boys in the house Tommy had come from. The knowledge that Jack’s brother could be one of those kids, all grown up now, put on more pressure to solve the case, but it also gave Jack more motivation.

Matty insisted that the FBI was relaying their information to the Phoenix (by relaying she meant Riley was… ascertaining…the information) and that they were perfectly capable of gathering the necessary information for the case. _Yeah, right,_ Jack thought. He didn’t trust the FBI to save those kids. He didn’t even trust them to ask the right questions. The FBI, in Jack’s experience, were too wrapped up in procedure to get to the heart of the case. They didn’t know what it was like to have a family member just vanish. They liked solving mysteries, but they hadn’t spent twenty years in the middle of one.

No one would handle this case better than Jack could. He was sure of it, but he wasn’t going to go rogue this time. The straight and narrow would be necessary for this case. He was going to be a good little soldier and follow Matty’s orders because if he didn’t, she’d kick him off the case because “it was too personal.” Honestly, he was surprised she hadn’t kicked him off already with the way he had gone off during the briefing. Jack supposed that Matty knew that personal could work in their favor if she leveraged it in the right way and watched Jack under her freaky magnifying glass eyes that could easily read between the lines and help her know when Jack was off track before he even knew it himself.

This case was fascinating but mostly daunting. Where was Nancy Drew’s perky resolve when you needed it? They didn’t know a lot about the case despite finding a living victim, which was a bit discouraging. Tommy had been found alone by a road in rural Nebraska, which should have greatly narrowed the possibilities of where the children were staying, but the boy had refused to say much about his homes, other than talking about his brothers and how much he missed them. They also didn’t know why or how he had gotten free from his captor. It was turning out to be suspiciously difficult to figure out where all the other kids were hidden. Tommy couldn’t have walked that far, meaning the other kids should have been nearby, but none of the nearby properties held any promise. Had Tommy somehow wandered farther than they thought? Had he somehow hitched a ride? But he was eight years old. Someone would have noticed a little kid traveling alone. None of it made sense, but it would once Jack was done with it. Somehow, he’d figure this out.

“Tommy Matthews was told his name was Jake, so clearly this guy is brainwashing the kids into forgetting that they had a life before they were kidnapped.” Carl’s Junior started saying, and Jack wanted to roll his eyes at the kid. He’d barely even started the job, but he was already talking Jack’s ear off about the case like he knew shit about kidnappers.

“Yeah, thanks, genius. I couldn’t figure that out myself.”

“I’m just trying to brainstorm. My mentor taught me that it’s useful to just share ideas, even if they are obvious ones, to get the ball rolling and then that reaps more productive thoughts.”

“I don’t really care what your mentor told you. Your blurting out things is messing with my own thinking.”

“Oh? Is that what I smell?”

“Cut it out, _Angus_. There’s a kid—kids— missing and you’ve got time to be sarcastic?”

“Does time stand still when _you’re_ being sarcastic.” Mac shrugged. “I thought I was just speaking your language.”

“I’ve earned my sarcasm by solving cases and getting kids home. Besides, you don’t have to deal with a hamburger genius kid who just breezes his way through life. When you do, you’ll be eligible for sarcasm.”

“I prefer _cheeseburger_ genius kid.” Mac was going to ignore the breezing through life comment because he preferred to pretend it was true over having to defend why it was not true.

Jack rolled his eyes, “I might like you if you weren’t so obnoxious.” A memory flashed through Mac’s head. _Mac don’t act so obnoxious. I won’t have a son of mine acting like a child_ , Mac remembered his dad saying when he had been eight. Jack had meant it as a lightly exasperated joke, but it caused Mac to tense with the inescapable memories of childhood. _Remember what your therapist said. Breathe._ But all Mac could see was James in a blind rage, tossing Mac’s toys in the garbage, and throwing his collection of glass figurines at the wall. He watched shards of colored glass sprinkle to the floor, little limbs still partway intact. _I don’t tolerate things that just sit around._ James pulled Mac from his crouched position on the floor. _Do something. Busy yourself with something that matters, and clean this mess up._ Mac used to wish he would be kidnapped. Anything would be better than growing up with James.

Terror filled Mac, which he converted to rage. He couldn’t yell at his dad, but he could yell at this asshole jerk of a cowboy who he barely knew but who had been treating Mac like a good for nothing kid ever since they met when Mac had done his best to make a good first impression. He was seething as he thought about how Jack had been treating him. _Dumb, know it all brat._ Darkness clouded Mac’s eyes. “And I might like you if were nice to people who _aren’t_ missing. It’s pretty sad when you spend your whole life saving your acts of goodness for people who are most likely dead.”

“What did you say?” Jacked asked through gritted teeth. This kid was making it impossible to keep his cool. Jack liked to think he was a pretty cool guy, the cool dad to Riley, but he didn’t put up with comments like that. He knew Mac was baiting him, but he couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t just pretend Carl’s Jr. hadn’t said anything.

Mac wasn’t bold enough to repeat himself, but he wasn’t going to drop his anger. “All I’m saying is that maybe you should stop being so bitter that some kids grow up.” Oops, that was not any better.

“I’m going to punch that dumb mouth of yours if you keep talking like that.”

Mac froze, flinching as Jack shot from his chair.

Jack immediately dropped his hands, which weren’t in fighting position yet, but had to started to lift, clenching in rage. He dropped back into his chair, and gave Mac a stern look, but the vitriol had dissipated. Like Mac’s figurines, tiny shards remained, but they’d been swept up by the vacuum people always used when they wanted to pretend they hadn’t let rage get the best of them. “Don’t say shit like that again.” Mac remember being in his room, brushing little pieces of glass into the dustpan. His father knelt beside him, _I’m sorry that I yelled at you, but you brought it out of me. Don’t do it again. You need to be careful next time._ Mac pricked his finger on the glass, a bead of blood bloomed on his finger. His dad wrapped a towel around the wound. _If you avoid breaking things, you don’t have to worry about hurting yourself trying to clean up the mess you made._ Mac didn’t bother mentioning that it hadn’t been his mess.

Lots of smartass comments bounced on the tip of Mac’s tongue, ready to plunge off it like a diving board, but Mac’s throat was too dry to get out any words and his heart was thumping too fast. _I deserved to be punched,_ he told himself, and he didn’t bother contemplating what Dr. Adams would have thought.

Jack snuck a glance at the cheeseburger kid, who looked to be deep in thought. _What’s new_ Those skittish eyes made Jack wonder about a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this I love you (and if you're not, I also probably also love you. If an I love you is written in an end note and no one reads it, is it really written? someone stop me). Anyway, hope you enjoyed this and it is not too all over the place for you. feel free to leave feedback. I love hearing from you. Be back soon with a new chapter! (Also, I wrote a scene very much in the distance and let me tell you... if you think things are heated now... just you wait)


	4. Working Towards Detente

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team tried to figure out how to find the kidnapper, and a myriad of tensions still simmer between Mac and Jack.

Relations between Mac and Jack had been less vitriolic at the Phoenix foundation. It had been three weeks since Mac and Jack had their fight, and there had been little fighting since aside from a few snippy comments here or there. While their relationship had improved, or at least been more cordial, Mac and Jack were not friends. They still hated each other’s guts, in fact, but they had been trying to put their differences aside for the sake of the kidnapping case, which had been dubbed, “Forced Family Kidnappings” by an intern, and the name had, unfortunately, stuck

The case had been stumping them for weeks, but they weren’t going to move on, not when there were kids still missing, kids they knew were more likely than not alive. They’d been putting in absurd hours just trying to make sense of the case to little avail.

The morning was only starting to shift to afternoon, and work on the Forced Family case was in full swing. Coffee was poured and mugs of it emptied as the Phoenix’s best team tried to solve one of the hardest cases the foundation had ever come across.

The team was gathered, sprawled about the war room, trying to brainstorm about what they knew about the kidnapper and his victims, which was much less than they would have liked. Something important seemed to be alluding them in this case, but for the life of them, they couldn’t figure out what it was. So, they focused on what they did know.

Nebraska clearly meant something because Tommy had been found there, but they were starting to become skeptical that the other kids had been kept in Nebraska, and with all the press coverage, the kidnapper might have moved the kids already if they had been there at all. Further, none of the neighbors in the surrounding area had seen anything remotely suspicious until Tommy Matthews popped up on a remote road. With more questions than answers, they were trying to use what they had to make sense of the unknown.

“Where have we gotten with the Forced Family case?” Matty asked, all business. This was one of the potentially biggest cases the Phoenix foundation had ever dealt with, and she wanted answers, partly because many lives were involved and a lesser part because the higher ups were pressuring her to solve the case.

With such an important case as an introduction to their job, Matty felt a little bad for Mac. Just a little. It would be a hard case for him to prove himself on, but she had hired him for a reason. She had no doubt that Encyclopedia Brown would bring something good to her team. That is, if he and Jack could keep their feud under wraps. Those two had been getting on her last nerve, Jack especially who was the provoker. That’s not to say she didn’t love her team, each and every one of them.

Mac stayed quiet, leaving the answering to Jack, who would glare at him if he spoke. Besides, didn’t want to explain to Matty that they basically had nothing more than before. He hated to admit that he had failed, unable to figure out exactly what was happening in the case when he’d been hired to use his supposedly genius level IQ. He imagined how his dad would respond to the failure, trying not to shudder as he imagined it. Mac would surely be punished for “refusing to use his ample brain power appropriately.” Mac never seemed to be able to use his mind well enough for his dad. He thought that in this job he could make a difference, save kids who had been hurt, but he was starting to worry that he was merely a nuisance making it harder to find answers.

Jack looked angry at the mere mention of the case, but he gave Matty a response at least. “It’s making a fool out of us. I’ll tell you that. None of this is leading us anywhere. Tommy hasn’t been able to give us a whole lot of information. We sent Samantha Cage from the victim outreach department to see him the other day and even she couldn’t get much from the kid other than get him to talk a bit about the other victims who were being held with him. Even then, what these kids look like or who they are isn’t evident. There’s at least 14 of them, maybe more.” They’d learned enough to learn that this person had taken more than a couple of kids, and it had been done over many years, indicating that the kidnapper would likely be fairly old, his sixties or seventies probably if Tommy had accurately aged his oldest “brother.” 

“I’m going to need more than that,” Matty replied firmly because she had a hard ass exterior to maintain, but she understood how arduous the case was, and knew her team was doing their best work, even if Mac and Jack personally weren’t getting along.

Barely paying attention the conversation, Mac was lost in his head, twisting a paperclip to look like an airplane, and it sent a fresh surge of rage through Jack. _That kid never focuses. He’s always off in that big, crazy brain of his. He can’t handle this job if he acts like that._ _He’s wasting all our time._ “Carl’s Junior, focus,” Jack snapped at him, unable to keep the bite from his voice, “We don’t have time for you messing around with those dumb paperclips.”

Flinging his paperclip onto the table, Mac startled at the unexpected interruption. “I was just thinking,” he said apologetically. _Mac, why do you always have to fiddle with things. Can’t you use your brain without also using your hands,_ the voice of James blared through his head. _You idiotic child, act like you’re as smart as they say you are.”_

“We don’t have time for you to zone off, Astro Brain.”

“Care to share your ideas with the class, Mac?” Riley asked before Mac could stutter an apology, ignoring her dad’s crankiness. She liked Mac more than her father liked him; that was for sure, and she knew her dad was being ridiculous. She wasn’t quite sure why Jack held so much animosity for the new guy. Hating Mac was like hating a puppy. He was so sweet and sadly docile at times. Mac was the type of person Riley needed more of in her life— a good listener, kind, selfless, reflective, smart. She could talk to him about technical things and not have to dumb them down. He and Jack should have been so good together on paper, a perfect dynamic duo, but comradery had yet to form between them for whatever reason. Riley suspected it was partly because Mac reminded Jack of his long-lost baby brother with his blond hair, blue eyes, and sharp mind, but she kept that suspicion to herself.

“I was wondering…” he trailed off, feeling too many sets of eyes on him. He still hadn’t gotten used to the team. _Don’t be afraid to use your voice_ , Dr. Adams had counseled. Mac forced himself to speak up. “I was wondering if the reason the reason the kidnapper released Tommy was because he made a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” Bozer prompted, genuinely wondering where Mac was going with this line of thought. From what he had seen of Mac so far, the guy seemed utterly brilliant. Thus far, Bozer hadn’t been heavily involved in this case, his expertise on films and disguises causing him to be borrowed by another team for most of the time they had been working on the Forced Family case. But he was back now and wanted to offer whatever support he could in addition to getting to know their new team member and making him feel welcome. Bozer was the unofficial welcome committee. He and his robot Sparky liked to make sure everyone felt included and safe at the Phoenix.

“I’m thinking that the kids were never in Nebraska at all. When the kidnapper kidnapped the latest kid, maybe he knows he made a mistake that could lead us to him, so he let a kid go in Nebraska to divert our attention and make us think home base was in Nebraska, which is why I don’t think these kids are being held in Nebraska after all.”

“Kid, that’s a little farfetched,” Jack argued. Mac looked down at his hands, feeling a little stupid for saying anything. _Don’t doubt yourself, Mac. You need to believe in yourself,_ he remembered the words of his therapist. He took a deep breath, readying himself for a debate against Jack, which turned out to be unnecessary. “Nebraska is all we’ve got at this point. That and Tommy.”

Matty cut in, “Jack, let him flesh out this idea before we rule it out.” She was confident that Mac and Jack could be a dream team if Jack let go of his stubborn resolve to hate Mac, who lacked some confidence but was full of good ideas.

“What I was getting to was that we need to figure out who the last kid the perpetrator kidnapped was and compare that case to Tommy’s. He must have made a mistake with the last one,” Mac emphasized, “Why else would he let Tommy out?”

“Maybe Tommy escaped,” Jack suggested. “Kids can do damn impressive things when they need to.”

Mac shook his head. “No, Tommy was too brainwashed to break out on his own. He wanted to go back to his captor.” He continued, “Tommy mentioned a five-year-old brother, meaning that the last kid can’t have been missing for that long. I’d guess this guy only kidnaps five-year-old boys because Tommy was that age too, so maybe we can gather information about all the five-year-old boys kidnapped in the last twenty-five years and see if there’s a bunch of them that share a lot of the same characteristics. Maybe this guy likes a certain type or has certain rituals.”

“Little blond boys with blue eyes,” Jack commented. “That seems to be the trend.”

“Possible, but not necessarily,” Mac replied, feeling a rush of braveness. “One kidnapped kid is not a trend. There’s a lot of characteristics these kids could share, and we have no idea what they are. There could be no method to his madness for all we know.”

Jack was certain these kids all looked like Tommy. “Blond hair and blue eyes— that’s what my brother looked like, and that’s what Tommy looks like too,” Jack insisted. Maybe he was trying too hard to make the case fit, but he so badly wanted it to believe that Michael was still alive. He needed to find Michael for his mom’s sake, and to a lesser extent, his own.

“Jack, Mac is right,” Matty reminded calmly. “We don’t know if this guy, or woman, cares what these kids look like. It might be based on looks, but we can’t rely on that as fact.”

Jack sighed, acknowledging Matty was right. “Fine.”

“Maybe we can’t find these kids based on looks, but we can guess that the kidnapper may have used the same technique when he snatched them,” Riley suggested. “I can definitely work with that.”

Mac nodded, getting excited at the promise that idea held. “Yes, that’s an idea. So how they were kidnapped might be the best place to start. Tommy was taken from his room in what was clearly a carefully planned kidnapping.”

“My brother never made it home from kindergarten. He may just take these kids when it’s convenient for him. Maybe there is no rhyme or reason after all.”

“Dad,” Riley gently placed her hand to his, “we can’t assume Michael is a part of this. I want him back too, but we have nothing to link him to this case, not yet.”

“I know that, but I’m just saying, we have no way of knowing it’s part of his ritual to take these kids from their bedrooms.”

“No, but it’s a pretty bold method, and suggests that he puts a lot of planning into these crimes. It may be compulsive. A lot of these crimes are, so it’s somewhere to start looking, and that’s more than we had before.”

“Yeah, well maybe you’re right, _Angus._ Not all of us can be eggheads like you.” Mac curled in on himself a little, making himself as small as possible. At the slightest indication of tension, Mac’s heart would begin pounding in his chest. “But I’ve been doing this for a long time. I know how it’s done.” _Don’t cower, son. You’re not a baby anymore._

Mac gathered his courage, ready for the inevitable fight, the break in the détente. “Maybe so, but you’re not looking at this clearly.”

“Not looking at this clearly? You scrawny—"

“Hey, now,” Bozer interrupted, always an expert peace maker, “I know this is hard, but let’s not let our egos get in the way of the case. We all want to find these kids, but if we’re going back and forth with each other, that won’t happen.”

Matty gave a reassuring smile to Mac, who looked like he wanted to cry, while giving Jack a scolding look. “Well said, Bozer.”

Jack exhaled, letting his excess energy out into the already vibrating air. “There’s too many variables in this case. It’s going to be too easy for us to inadvertently force a wrong theory to fit and then end up chasing our tails looking for this evil sack of shit because we’ve assumed things we shouldn’t assume.”

“I know,” Mac said kindly, as if he and Jack hadn’t been seconds away from nuclear war, “That’s why we have Riley. She’ll be able to show us data on all these theories faster than anyone else, which is why I think we shouldn’t rule anything out yet, but we should also start by looking at kidnappings where boys were taken from their homes and see if we can find any other connections that might link a large number of them.”

Jack nodded begrudgingly. “Are we sure he only takes boys?” Mac wasn’t sure of anything. He was starting to doubt that he had any right to be on this case. _What have I gotten myself into?_ he thought. _I’m not smart enough for this. I read a lot of books, but what do I know about kidnapped kids? I can’t even get a long with my coworkers. How could I possibly save lost boys?_

“I think it’s safe to assume given that Tommy’s talked a lot about brothers, but he has never mentioned having any sisters. Like I said, we shouldn’t rule anything out, but it seems to me, this guy only takes boys.”

“I agree,” Matty said. “Riley, do you think you can get a list of kidnapped boys who fit the bill?”

Riley smiled, a self-assured smile. “Of course, I can. I’ll get right on the search, and then I’ll compile a list of possibles that we can spend the next week or so narrowing down.”

Jack grinned in response, “That’s my girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter finished. I hope you lovely readers are enjoying this little story of mine. I'm having a lot of fun writing it (it's very self indulgent), even though I'm not good at the whole case/mystery aspect. Please leave feedback to let me know what you think! I want to update some other stories, so it will probably be about a week before I get the next chapter out, but an update is coming fairly soon I hope. See you then!
> 
> Next Chapter: "Memories" In the hunt for a group of missing children, Mac starts to remember things about his past that don't make sense. Jack pushes himself harder on the case in hopes that he'll find his missing brother Michael.


	5. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the hunt for a group of missing children, Mac starts to remember things that don't make sense. Meanwhile, Jack pushes himself to work harder on the case in hopes that he'll find Michael.

It had taken her a long while, but Riley had done her magic, and they’d whittled down the potential victims, but even with Riley’s impressive computer skills, there were still so many kids to sort through. They’d spent all day ruling out kids who, for whatever reason, couldn’t have possibly been kidnapped by the Forced Family kidnapper. The number of pictures and files they had to go was utterly disheartening. It made Mac feel hopeless to see how many children went missing in a year. All those youngsters, vanishing without a trace. Sometimes bodies were found, sometimes they weren’t. In most cases, the kids were found alive, but there were still plenty of instances in which they weren’t. Too many families still didn’t know what happened to their children. Accordingly, finding an undetermined number of long-missing children would be a miracle, which was why they absolutely needed to crack the case as quickly as possible before something bad, well worse, happened to those kids.

It helped that stranger abductions were much less common than kids being abducted by someone they knew, but still, the missing hoards were staggering, and the small percentage of kids taken by strangers each year were much less likely to be found alive. The statistics were certainly not in favor of finding kids so many years after they’d gone missing. Kids like Jack’s brother were generally presumed dead, not that a presumption ever killed that last bit of hope. Until he knew what happened, Jack would never be able to move on. He wanted Michael to be alive, and as long as Michael could be alive, Jack would believe that he was.

The team had narrowed down the list to boys who had been taken from their home when they were around the age of five—they’d extended that search to a larger age range to cover all bases. The pile of pictures was daunting but not impossible to sort through. Mac and Jack led the charge of trying to connect the victims and narrow down the list of boys even more, but because the kidnapper had been active for so long, it was harder to get data for the potential older cases. Still, they’d made decent progress going through what information they had. Their first goal was to find the potential most recent victim, so they could see if Mac’s theory that the kidnapper had made a mistake was right.

“This is bullshit,” Jack groaned. “It shouldn’t be that hard to crack this case open. We’ve narrowed it down to eleven young boys who were taken from their houses this year, and none of them stand out. None were taken the same day as Tommy, so it isn’t a yearly ritual like you thought it might be.” Jack had insisted that date wasn’t important when Mac had suggested that maybe he kidnapped the kids on an anniversary of some kind. Mac had thought Jack was just trying to keep alive the chance the Michael was still out there, alive and with the kidnapper they were chasing.

“Maybe the date isn’t important. It was just a theory.” Mac replied. _If you have a theory, it better be right, Angus. I won’t tolerate any mistakes, not when I know you have so much squandered potential._ “But it still might be. It could be biannual or every three years.” That wouldn’t quite fit with the facts, but Mac was trying to think of every possibility. “We don’t really know how often he does this. Maybe he just takes them when he sees a kid he likes. If he’s taking them from their houses like we think, then it must be planned.”

“I don’t think so. They’re not taken at random. Like you said, these crimes are planned. Tommy wasn’t taken by coincidence. This guy chose him. There’s some kind of pattern here. I feel it but, I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is.” He threw his pen at his desk. “We don’t have enough information. That’s the problem.”

“We do!” Mac insisted frantically, remembering how much his dad hated when he didn’t have an answer to something. “We have all the information we need, but we need to figure out how to use it.” Now, Mac was getting frustrated. He needed to figure out how the clues pieced together ASAP. _Angus, you shouldn’t need more information. You need to learn to take what you have and bend it to your will. Don’t be a moron. If you don’t start using your brain, you’ll need to be punished. You know the rules: no stupid boys in my house. I’ll make you sleep outside if you don’t follow my rules. That will teach you to obey. It will teach you that if you act like a dumb dog, you will be treated like one._ Mac shook the memory from his brain. His dad didn’t have power over him anymore. He was his own man now. He was an adult who was worthy and smart. He was human, and humans shouldn’t be too hard on themselves.

Jack pulled out a kid’s file, a small, cherubic boy with a toothy grin. “Isak Christianson was taken nearest to the anniversary of Tommy’s kidnapping. The same month, but not the same day. And he also looks most similar to Tommy. My brother was also taken in October. It could be a trend.”

“You can’t just make a connection because you want your brother to fit into this,” Mac reminded Jack as gently as he could, but anything Mac ever said, Jack took as a grave offense.

“But it makes sense. Why can’t you let me think things out, Mr. Let the Ideas Flow? Are you the only one allowed to share your dumb ideas?” But with Jack, it was a lot more than letting ideas flow, and they both knew that.

“I’m all about letting the ideas flow, but I can’t let you get caught up in a theory because of wishful thinking,” Mac replied defensively.

“I know that. I’m not saying this has anything to do with my brother. But it might. If it makes you happy, we don’t have to connect Michael to this. You can go on pretending he doesn’t exist, but it wouldn’t hurt to start digging into the Isak Christianson case and see if anything strikes us. I have a feeling that this is our kid, and my gut reactions tend to be good.” _Never trust your gut, son. The only thing you should trust is your mind… and your old man. Always trust your father._

“We have to look at the other boys too,” Mac insisted. He wasn’t going to overlook the other possible candidates because Jack Dalton said so. Mac was nothing if not thorough. They were going to do this case right.

“But we start with Isak.”

“Fine,” Mac relented. “We can start with Isak.”

Mac stood from his chair, pushing it in neatly behind him. “I’m going to get Riley and see if she can get us more information on the cases we have here.” As he was passing Jack, Mac’s eye caught a picture on his coworker’s desk, one he’d never noticed before. Something struck him, strange sensation washed over him. Something popped into his mind the instant he saw it, a memory coming in and out of his brain before he could process it. He didn’t remember what he had remembered but there was a distant, foggy memory pushing its way through his mind. It scared him with its mysterious instrusivness. There was something about the woman that felt startlingly familiar. “Who is that?” he asked Jack, pointing to the picture. _Look at those lovely blue eyes,_ a voice said. _Such a smart boy._

“My mama,” Jack answered skeptically, not used to making small talk with Mac. They weren’t exactly warm and cuddly with each other. Having to talk over the case was hard enough to get through without bringing their personal lives into it. “I just got the picture reframed after I broke the last one. Took me several months, but I finally did it.” Jack wasn’t quite sure why he had added the details. He didn’t owe Mac an explanation, but Jack loved his mama and would talk about her whenever the chance came up. She deserved more love than he could ever give her. She’d lost a child, and Jack could only imagine the pain. He’d lost a brother, and that had been pain enough for a lifetime. He liked to keep her photo on his desk to remind him what he was there for—getting kids home to their mamas who would give anything to hold their babies again.

The memory popped back into Mac’s mind, a little clearer now, as he recalled the woman combing his hair with her fingers. “She can’t be your mother,” Mac said in shock. He knew it was dumb, obviously Jack knew who his mother was, but it still didn’t make sense. “I know her. She must have been my dad’s friend or something. I remember her smile, and her voice.”

 _You’re such a sweet little boy,_ Mac heard her say. _My sweet little boy._ Jack was unsure whether he should be mad at Mac or not. Was the kid being insane or pulling some cruel prank on Jack? It was hard to tell, and Jack didn’t like the feeling. That hamburger kid was tearing his life apart. “I don’t think so, Carl’s Jr. You’re talking crazy. Unless you lived in Texas, the chances are slim that you ever crossed paths with my mother. She’s never really left home, barely even goes on day trips.” Even with Jack’s argument, Mac couldn’t shake the feeling that he somehow knew her. Maybe he was going crazy, confusing her with some similar looking woman, but it was an overwhelming feeling.

 _Eat your dinner, honey. You need to grow big and strong. Your big brain needs a lot of fuel._ “She was nice to me. She made me dinner—a babysitter maybe. Did she babysit?”

Jack shifted in his seat, not liking how serious Mac sounded. “She didn’t babysit you. I know that much. Now, quit messing with me, weirdo. You’re freaking me out.”

Mac remembered the feeling of coolness in his hand and feeling an object with little hands. _Be careful. That’s a gift from one of my two most special boys._ “She wore a pony pendant. It was silver,” he blurted

Jack looked stunned, face frozen in shock, remembering the necklace he’d given her so many years ago when he was in grade school. She always loved that stupid necklace. “I don’t know how you know about that, but it’s not because you knew my mom. It can’t be. You couldn’t possibly… you have no right to mess with my head like this, kid. You’ve been nothing but trouble since you got here.” _You’ll only ever be trouble,_ Mac’s dad’s voice had returned to the forefront of his mind. “And whatever prank you’re pulling, you need to cut it out.” _Cut it our before you make me mad._

Not wanting to cause a fight, Mac wasn’t going to insist that it wasn’t a joke. That would just make Jack’s temper flare. Mac didn’t like to test the man’s limited patience. Mac apologized, “I’m sorry. I must be remembering wrong.” Mac knew better than most how unreliable memory was. People were constantly remaking memories and confusing facts. Memories were fragile, and not meant to hold up under pressure. They could be changed by tiny things like suggestion. It was virtually impossible to ensure a memory stayed fully intact. Mac wasn’t sure what the picture of Jack’s mother had triggered within him, but the strange, fleeting memory left Mac unsettle and confused.

“It’s okay. As long as you don’t try anything like that again. It’s not cool at all, man. Next time you want mess with my head, leave my mom out of it. Whatever beef we have, it stays between us.”

“I didn’t mean to bring her into it,” Mac protested, only wanting peace. _Maybe I’d have peace if you weren’t around. Sometimes, I wish you were dead. You would be better off with your mother, dead and in the grave. I bet she was happy she didn’t have to deal with you anymore. It’s just my luck to get the shittiest kid on Earth, just my luck. Stop being a dumb coward, Angus. You’re not a little boy anymore. Grow up,_ James had said when Mac was all of eight-years-old, _Stop being such a pain in the ass_. “I really am sorry. I know I can be a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, well, how about this: next time you think you remember something, keep it to yourself. That will make you less of a pain in my ass.” _Don’t bother me with silly thoughts._

A flitter of something wafted through Mac’s brain: _I love you Mackie,_ a sweet voice said distantly. “Fine,” Mac said, “You won’t hear another peep from me.” _I love you more than words can ever say._ And Mac could’ve sworn he heard his younger self answer, _I love you too, mommy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It was interesting for me to write. I had a little trouble with it, but I think it turned out alright. Anyways, thank you for reading and feel free to leave feedback xxx
> 
> Next chapter: "Team Bonding" Just over two months into working with together, Matty forces team bonding in hopes that making Mac and Jack get along and understand each other better will not only give them insight into each other's mind but help them get over the road block in the Forced Family case.


	6. Team Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just over two months into working with together, Matty forces team bonding in hopes that making Mac and Jack get along and understand each other better will not only give them insight into each other's mind but help them get over the roadblock in the Forced Family case.

It had been a long two months for Mac and Jack, who were exhausted from the Forced Family case. The pair had been bickering all week, calling each other names and hurling insults like they were javelins. Mac had just had a major blow up after Jack had prodded at him all morning, and to be honest, Matty was fed up with their behavior. There was no reason why two of her best employees needed to be sworn enemies. Together, they’d take the world by storm. “Today,” Matty said to the team, who’d she’d gathered in the war room,“We’re going to take a break from the case.”

“Matty,” Mac protested just as Jack did the same. “We can’t stop looking for these kids. They need us to keep working.” Mac had been stressing himself out about the case for week. His sleep was suffering and his appetite was suffering, which was causing his patience and overall mood to plummet.

“Carl’s Jr. is actually right,” Jack agreed. Matty almost grinned how her two employees had teamed up against her; maybe all she needed to do was give them a common enemy and let them bond over their nonstop dedication to work, but she’d already planned out a special day for the team, and she wasn’t going to change her plans now. Besides, this was what they needed to do if they wanted permanent change. They needed to see that they could not only work together but that they could do better work if they operated harmoniously.

“It’s just for one day. You’ll never be able to solve the case if you don’t learn to work together.”

“What do you have in mind?” Bozer asked, always ready for an activity to break the monotony of their work.

“We’re meeting a team facilitator named Tom Jones who will lead us through team bonding exercises.”

“Team bonding? You’ve got to be kidding me. Like trust falls and shit?” Jack couldn’t think of a worse waste of time. They couldn’t be frolicking around doing silly things while there were kids who needed his help.

“Exactly, Jack. I want you and Mac to stop being one man shows and start using your collective brain power so that we can find those kids. I know it seems like a waste of time but trust me when I say I know what I’m doing.” There was no doubt that Matty was expert, but the plan still seemed silly to both Mac and Jack.

Mac shifted in his seat, hating the idea of team bonding. “Is that really necessary?” he asked quietly.

“It sure is.”

Mac and Jack both groaned. Matty smiled. Harmony was already being restored.

* * *

“This activity,” the group leader, a gym-junkie-looking guy named Tom began, “is to help you let go…” _You need to let her go. Your mother is gone, and you’ll never see her again. She’s dead, kid. Do you hear me? She’s dead._ “…of all your presumptions about one another. We’ll go around in the circle and make an assumption about the person to our left, and then that person will have a chance to correct or accept that assumption and will then give an assumption about the person on their left. It will be a circle where we can challenge what we think we know about each other,” Tom explained. “Sound good?” Not really, but they were in for the long haul, and Matty had been forcing them into the activities all day with no way of getting out of them. Mac thought someone was going to die during the trust fall segment, but Matty hadn’t let them chicken out. She’d pushed them forward, reminding them that this was a job requirement. “Mac you start.”

Mac stifled a groan because, of course, Jack was on his left. _Don’t mess this up, kid. You don’t want to ruin everything like you normally do._ Mac wasn’t going to throw a softball. He was going in for the strikeout. “My assumption is that Jack thinks I’m a nuisance who can do no right, but he knows nothing about me. He’s an asshole who can’t stand anyone trying to come in and do his job better than he can. He’s jealous of some kid coming in and proving that he’s just a bitter old man with a lot of personal baggage.”

“Mac—” Riley tried to cut in before things got too intense, but Jack was too enraged at the comment to let anyone mediate.

“You little brat. What do you know about me? You’re wrong about everything. Everything. You think you know something about me? Well, you don’t. You don’t know what it’s like to not know where someone you love is. You don’t know the agony of spending years waiting for someone who might never come home. You don’t know the hope I wake up, only to have crushed when another day goes by without knowing what happened to my brother. I work here because I want to do good. I’m not some smarty pants who’s had the world handed to him. This isn’t the life I had planned, but I wound up here because nothing is more important to me than getting those kids home, and I won’t let some stupid genius ruin that. Got me?”

Mac rolled his eyes, “Loud and clear. I’m not the one you’re supposed to be making assumptions about, but since you did, I think it’s fair for me to say that you’re wrong about me too. There’s a lot you don’t know, and a lot I would never dare to tell you because why waste my breath on a person like you, who doesn’t care to listen.”

Mac and Jack began to verbally spar as the rest of the group spoke among themselves, letting the two men vent. They were used to these squabbles.

Bozer looked to Tom apologetically, “Well, that didn’t go to plan.”

Matty shrugged, seeming to not mind the outburst. “That’s why we’re here. By the end of the day, they’ll have released all that misplaced rage they’re both feeling.”

Riley didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure about that? They seem to have plenty of rage left”

Matty nodded. “Positive. They have more in common than they think.”

“And that is?”

“They’ll both fling themselves off a cliff to do what’s right. They’ll do what’s right here too, but it’ll just take a little time. And a big push.”

Bozer looked at his watch, “Hopefully very little time. We still have five hours of this to go, and I can’t take them fighting the whole time.”

* * *

Hours later, and with very little obvious progress, the team was about to conclude their bonding day.

The final activity was leading each other through an obstacle course. The catch was that one partner was blindfolded while the other served as the guide. The point was trusting your partner enough to listen and follow their instructions and giving them control of your safety. _You can’t even trust yourself. Nothing in this world is sure. Your own mind will turn on you if you let it. The world is dangerous, but I’ll keep you safe._

Jack and Mac were partnered up, and Mac, dreaded the whole thing. He wasn’t good with trust, and neither was Jack. They’d both been wronged by the universe for far too long to blindly trust, but Jack had at least put effort in to trust Mac when he’d been blindfolded. Next, it was Mac’s turn, and he wasn’t sure he could do it.

Mac had trusted the wrong person for too long, and now, his whole childhood was blurry. He remembered it snippets, but he wasn’t always sure what was real and what was imagination. He still thought a lot about Jack’s mother, sure that he knew her, but the more he thought about it, the more confused he got. Jack’s mom was starting to blur with memories of his own mom. _She’s dead now. She never loved you. I’m all you have left. I’ll never abandon you. I’ll keep you safe, but you need to listen._ Mac shook the image from his head, trying to focus on the task at hand.

He’d just guided Jack through the obstacle course, so Mac had a pretty good idea of where everything was, and was fairly certain he could guide himself through it if he needed to, which wasn’t the point, but it made him feel a little more secure that Jack wasn’t going to walk him into a giant boulder or something.

“You ready, kid?” Jack asked, shaking the blindfold in front of Mac’s face. Riley already had Bozer blindfolded and was ready to go. Matty was about to guide group leader Tom through the course.

Mac nodded hesitantly. It wasn’t just his lack of trust that caused Mac’s heart to race. The memories were coming in full force. _You have to learn how to get out with only four of your senses. Survival skills are important, son._ Mac had been through worse, but he wasn’t willing to relive one of his dad’s “tests.” Mac couldn’t exactly say no without revealing why he couldn’t got through with it or sounding uncooperative. He would give it a go, and he would be fine. Jack was harsh, but Mac knew Jack was not his dad. “I’m ready,” he finally said, preparing himself with a deep breath.

Jack put the blindfold around Mac’s eyes, and Mac’s vision went dark, sending Mac’s mind into the past. Instantly, Mac felt sick to his stomach as he was thrust back to being eleven years old, and scared. This wasn’t good. He should have known he would react badly, even the thought had sent him spiraling. He should’ve found an excuse. _You’re so stupid._

 _You’ll stay here until you get yourself out._ The blindfold was satiny but itched Mac’s face as perspiration dripped down his forehead and he fought the demons in his mind. _Don’t ask me to help you because I won’t. You can’t rely on other people to save you._ Mac had to save himself.

Despite himself, Mac remembered James shoving him into a dark crawl space, blindfolding Mac, locking the door and not letting Mac out until Mac could get out himself. Mac didn’t dare trying to take the blindfold off because if he did and his dad found out… there’d be troubled, he knew better than to take that chance.

“Hey, kid, are you okay?” Jack asked genuinely, sensing the kid’s apprehension, which was more than merely not wanting to participate in the activity. The kid was scared, his body tense with something that Jack couldn’t quite figure out.

Mac wasn’t going to give Jack the satisfaction of not being okay. Well, he didn’t plan to, but it was getting harder to breathe. His chest was tight, and the blindfold was just close enough to Mac’s nose that he felt as though he was running out of air, even though he had plenty of it. The room was shrinking, closing in on him as he remembered. He hated blindfolds. He hated the dark. He hated small spaces. He hated being so scared. Mac remembered being in the hot, cramped crawlspace for so long that the air had gone stale, and his breaths had done shallow.

With too much going on in his head, Mac couldn’t answer Jack’s question. He was paralyzed with terror. The past was rushing over him, and he couldn’t figure out what to do with it. It only made things worse that this was happening in front of his team. If he was alone, he could break down for a while and piece himself together before anyone could notice. But flashbacks were much harder to handle in public, especially big ones like this.

“Kid?” Jack tried again, not sure what to do. “Carl’s Jr.? Mac?” The words were tinny in Mac’s ears, sounding far away and detached from him like they were being heard by someone else. _Keep your head in reality, son. It doesn’t help anyone to get lost in anything but the here and now._

“I don’t think he can breathe,” Riley observed, and seeing that she was right, Jack immediately ripped the blindfold off, guiding the kid towards a chair. The light was a relief, but the emotions didn’t subside. They were being catapulted at Mac full force, and Mac couldn’t help the tears that rolled down his face, which he hastily wiped away feeling stupid and like a crybaby. _Crying is for infants. Are you an infant? Of course not. Act your age, boy, act your age._

“I’m sorry,” Mac tried to say but couldn’t speak properly between the huffing and sniffling he was doing. Tom stood off to the side, not sure what was happening. _Quit making a fool of yourself._

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Matty said firmly in the voice no one could debate even if they wanted to.

“Yeah, it’s fine, man. Things like this happens to all of us,” Bozer added, and Mac was pretty sure he was lying but appreciated the efforts. _Things like this only happen to stupid, useless kids like you._

Jack had gone into full dad mode. When a kid was upset, he knew to comfort them, even if it wasn’t their own. He hadn’t been nice to Mac, but Jack wasn’t a heartless monster. His paternal instincts knew better than Jack’s stubborn half.

“Riley, go get him a bottle of water,” Jack ordered, and Riley nodded right away, and before Mac knew it, the bottle was being brought to his lips and small circles were being rubbed into his back. A callused hand brushed through blond locks. “You’re okay, kid. You’re okay,” Jack repeated until Mac had calmed down. Mac’s head dropped on Jack’s shoulder, and Jack let it there, waiting until Mac didn’t feel like the world was imploding.

When Mac’s breathing had evened, Tom quietly leaving the room to give them some privacy, Jack asked, “Do you want to talk about what happened there, buddy?” Jack asked so gently Mac could have cried (again). During moments like these, Mac knew that deep down Jack was a good person, even if he could be a hot-headed asshole.

“I thought I’d be over it by now,” Mac said softly. Mac had been through therapy, and he’d learn how to deal with his trauma, but it was still there, and no matter how okay he thought he was, he couldn’t escape it. The pressure would build in his head until he had to face it. He wanted James to stop mattering, but James was the only family Mac had left, and it wasn’t easy to realize that he was alone in the world. Mac didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to have a home, a person who he knew had to love him, and still had some dumb hope that that person would be James. It was a childish hope, but one he’d never been able to rid his mind of completely.

“Over what?” Jack prodded gently. Jack wasn’t going to push Mac to say anything he didn’t want to

Mac almost resisted. He almost didn’t speak, but he didn’t want to keep James’ secret anymore. He didn’t want to have to hide. He wanted someone other than his therapist to know how hurt he was. “Over being afraid. I don’t know. I thought I’d stop being hurt by the past eventually. But it still hurts, and I hate it.”

“I know. It is hard. You can’t force your brain to forget. But talking can help. I didn’t talk about Michael for a long time, and it only made me less able to live in the present. I was angry and bitter, and staying silent couldn’t change that.” Jack’s words touched Mac. Maybe Matty was right to think that they could get along.

“My dad wasn’t very good at being a dad,” Mac admitted, which was the understatement of the century, but Mac wasn’t ready to reveal the extent of his father’s depravity. He didn’t want to talk about how he’d been tortured and brainwashed and who knew what else. He had trouble recalling much of it, having repressed a good deal of childhood memories to protect himself from the trauma, making flashbacks all the harder to deal with because they still had the power to shock him as he remembered something he’d been running from. It was good to remember, to work through the things, but it was mentally draining.

“He used to…” Mac swallowed some bile, “He used lock me in a crawlspace in the attic and he’d blindfold me.”

The entire room froze, and when it became reanimated, Mac could see the enraged looks on the whole team’s faces, especially Jack’s, who looked like he was going through a dozen emotions at once.

Jack’s face had grown very red, and Mac wanted to appease his anger. _You think this is angry? You don’t want to see me when I’m angry._ “It wasn’t a punishment or anything.” Though, there’d been plenty of those. “It was a survival exercise. He wanted me to be able to get out of bad situations while only using four senses, so he’d create little challenges for me. He said if I knew how to do that, I could get out of anything. He was right there the whole time in case I needed help.” Mac wasn’t actually sure if that was true—he’d been in the crawlspace for hours the first time and couldn’t imagine James wasting so much time just waiting for Mac to escape— but it made the situation sound a little less bad. “It wasn’t that bad, but I still remember how scared I was, and I guess it stuck with me all these years. Dad meant well.” _Why are you defending his actions? What he did to you wasn’t right._ It was awful but his dad’s lessons had helped him learn. He’d learned how to protect himself from the cruel world around him. Ever since that day, though, Mac knew to carry his Swiss Army knife wherever he went.

“You know that’s not right, don’t you?”

Mac shrugged, not sure. He had come to learn that many of his dad’s actions had been wrong, but some of them still felt like they were in Mac’s best interest. Jack wouldn’t understand that, though. He’d just see it all as abuse, so Mac wasn’t going to argue about it. They’d argued enough. “I know that. He wasn’t perfect, my dad wasn’t all bad. He taught me a lot of things and loved me. My mom died, and all we had left was each other. That’s just how it was. We were good for each other. He was good to me.” _Liar. No one likes a liar._

Jack didn’t say anything, but Mac could tell he had trouble believing what. Mac wasn’t going to waste his breath arguing any further.

* * *

They were back at the Phoenix Foundation, and Jack found Mac sitting on a bench in the courtyard, shivering in the dark, cool night. Little pin pricks of stars were dull in the light polluted sky like freckles in the permanent duskiness of a cold winter, but the little bits of illumination made Mac feel comforted. The black blanket of night couldn’t smother him as long as there were stars.

Jack sat next to Mac. “You know what I learned today?” That Mac’s life was a dumpster fire, and that his childhood had been ripped straight from a tragic fairytale.

“What?” Mac asked quizzically, not sure if this was some kind of test. He thought he and Jack had made a breakthrough, but he didn’t want to rely on that quite yet.

“That you’re a good person.” _Don’t pretend to be a good person. You’re not, never will be._ The comment made Mac emotional, but he couldn’t figure out which emotion he was feeling so he let anger kick in, only a little, but he wasn’t going to risk being touched in case Jack was just messing with him.

“So, you like me now because you feel sorry for me?” Mac raged a little. “You couldn’t like me without knowing my trauma? Are you the type of person who only likes things that are broken?”

Jack shook his head. “No, that’s not it. I like you now because I’ve realized I was an asshole before. And you’re not broken. It’s me that’s broken. My whole perception of the world revolves around Michael, even though he’s been gone for two decades. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did, not to anyone, especially someone I just met. I judged you before you even walked into the building and that was wrong.” James never admitted to being wrong. _You misunderstood me, Angus. I wasn’t wrong. You’re wrong._

“What does Michael have to do with why you hated me?”

“A lot of reasons really. A young, brilliant guy comes in, and it’s bound to cause a little jealousy.”

“You don’t seem like the jealous type,” Mac said honestly. Jack was a pretty easy going. He liked celebrating other people’s victories and was content with his own skillset. Even at his worst, Jack wasn’t jealous.

“No, I’m not really, but you remind me of my brother or what he might’ve been, and I know that’s no excuse, but it sometimes makes so angry that some kids get to grow up while others are gone forever. It makes me angry that Michael isn’t here because he’d be doing so much good. Even as a five-year-old, I knew my brother would make the world a better place.” Jack exhaled, “I know my brother is out there somewhere, but I’m not so sure that I’ll find him, and the thought kills me.”

“It’s hard to say if you’ll see him again,” Mac replied, knowing the chances of Michael being found. “But I know you’ll never stop looking. I’ll look with you if you want. I want kids to grow up happily just as much as you do, you know.”

“I just hate to think of what he might have had to go through—torture, abuse, trauma. I want Michael to be happy, and who knows what kind of hell he’s been through.”

“Maybe someday you’ll be able to give him new memories. Bad things don’t have to ruin people. It takes work, but things do get better. I used to think I’d never be okay. I thought I’d always be that kid, alone and sitting in the dark.” Mac laughed drily, “Sometimes, I used to wish I would be kidnapped just because I thought that being anywhere else would be better than being with my dad. For a long time, I was robbed of everything that made me happy, but then, I was lucky enough to be able to take my life back.”

Jack flung an arm around Mac, pulling him for a side hug. “I’m proud of you.”

Mac shrugged, “It’s not like I had much of a choice. It was either try to heal or let James continue to destroy me.”

“It’s up to people like us to give every child a chance at safety. Because there’s a lot of fuckers who get off on unhappiness, and I’d sooner die than let them hurt kids without a fight.”

Mac nodded, sniffling slightly. “Me too. I’m sorry for all the cruel things I’ve said to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m sorry too. You don’t deserve that treatment either.” Mac looked down at his feet skeptically. _You deserve the worst._ “Hoss, look at me.” Mac glanced up, barely meeting Jack’s eyes. “You don’t deserve the bad things that happened to you. You never did and never will.” Jack vowed he was going to hunt down Mac’s father and make him pay for what he did to Mac.

He’d start by having Riley find everything she could on James MacGyver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I really liked writing it. Anyway, I'll be back soon once I go through some of my updating rounds. Love you all xxx Feel free to leave feedback.


	7. Connecting the Dots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connections between the kidnapping case and Mac begin to build unbeknownst to Mac and the team. Meanwhile, the case begins to unfold as the team gets one step closer to finding the missing children. New truths are learned about Mac.

The team was in the war room, discussing the Forced Family case. They were trying to keep calm, but progress had been slow, and they were a little on edge, feeling the burden of an undetermined number of missing kids potentially being out there somewhere.

Jack especially was pushing himself to get the case solved, hoping his little brother would finally be found after two decades of being gone. Jack knew that if he got Michael back, things wouldn’t snap back to normal. Michael would need time to heal and adapt to his family as well as his new life, but he didn’t care about any of that. He could deal with it when it happened. All he wanted was answers. Everything else he could manage later.

Mac, for his part, was nearly as desperate to find the kids. He didn’t know what it was like to be kidnapped, but he knew what it was like to go unprotected, to wish to be found and saved. He didn’t want those kids to go unsaved. He wanted them to know good lives. He wanted them to have so many things he’d never had. The sad part was that some of them were even older than Mac based on what Tommy Matthews had said, and they’d never had the normal childhood Mac wished he could give all kids. Regardless, he needed to save them. _You can’t save yourself. You’re stuck with me, son._ Mac knew that any chance at a happy life was better than being perpetually imprisoned in an environment of unhappiness and fear. People couldn’t get over trauma if the trauma never ended.

“Isak Christianson,” Jack said, “after all our digging, I still think he’s the kid we should be looking at.”

“I wasn’t so sure originally, but with all the information we’ve gathered, there are a lot of things that would fit if he was another victim. His kidnapping is strikingly similar to Tommy’s. They both lived in remote communities. Both were quiet children. They were the same age when kidnapped, same general appearance, socioeconomic status, kidnapped the same month of different years. I could go on.” Mac searched his mind for a moment, _Look at the sky,_ a kind voice said. _There’s more than God to be found in the heavens_. _The man in the moon will keep you safe._ “You know what’s interesting?” he asked, realization in his voice. _Don’t remember things that don’t matter. Stop overthinking. You’re letting your imagination go wild. Behave, Angus, or you will be sorry. Quit your daydreaming. I didn’t buy you a telescope for you to stargaze. Constellations aren’t real. They’re just shit people thought to fill time. They aren’t science._

“What’s that, Hoss?” Jack asked gently, a tone that was inexplicably soothing. _I love you,_ the female voice flittered through Mac’s head. It was a relief that Jack had learned to better understand Mac’s process. Jack’s new demeanor made these work meetings less stressful for Mac. _You’re such a sweet boy, Mackie. Isn’t the night sky so lovely?_

“Both kids were taken at the same time in the lunar cycle. On the day of the new moon.” One of Mac’s earliest memories was looking to the sky and asking his mom, _Why is there no moon in the sky._ And his mom had explained, _It’s always there, honey, but right now it’s shadowed. It will start to grow again until you can see it again. The moon is never gone too long. He’ll be back to looking at you soon._ Mac could hear her words in his head, but he couldn’t see her face and her voice sounded like it was going though water. It was normal, Mac assured himself. Memories that early were usually fuzzy, and his mom had died when he was five. Without any pictures of her in the house, it had been natural that Mac would forget her face. Still, it bothered him that he didn’t remember.

He knew very little about his mom, which made him feel like he was missing a part of himself, a part of his personal history that was so vital to who he was. Mac hadn’t been allowed to remember her as a child, not at all. Every time he did, his dad would punish him. _She’s in the past, Angus. Don’t think of her. It’s just you and me now. No one else, nothing else matters. Just the two of us. That’s all there has ever been._ So, he learned not to think about her. He learned to push her away from his brain in favor of things that would keep him safe instead of get him in trouble, but now that he was free from his dad, little snippets were coming back, even if the harm done to her memory would never be restored as much as Mac would like it to be.

“So you’re saying this guy takes people based on the moon?” Jack was annoyed at the thought, but he kept his tone neutral so Mac wouldn’t think that Jack was annoyed at him. He was learning that certain things would trigger bad memories for Mac, and Jack wanted to avoid those as much as possible. When they couldn’t be avoided completely, Jack was determined to ensure Mac didn’t have to go through them alone because hurting kids deserved love, not more hurt. That’s how Jack hoped Michael would be treated in a similar situation.

If Michael ever returned, Jack would show the kid all the love he could muster. He’d do his best to make things better.

Jack dreaded the idea that some whacko obsessed with the moon could have his Michael. A guy like that was not loving. Scars on Tommy Matthew’s back had shown that he had been whipped, and the poor kid thought that was normal parental behavior. He’d yet to recover from what had happened to him. Other kids had been there a lot longer. Jack wasn’t sure anyone could recover from being kidnapped and tortured that long, not fully, but he still had hope. He had to have hope. What else was there to have in absence of the one you most want to have?

With the potential moon theory seeming relevant, Jack searched his mind to see if he could figure out what the moon had looked like in Texas on the night Michael went missing. He didn’t know, but he’d definitely check when they were done with the meeting. He didn’t want the pitiful stares if he whipped out his phone to check right away. Everyone would know what he was doing, and Matty might even try to get him to stop doing it.

They knew they were close to cracking the case; they could feel it. The team had narrowed the potential victim pool down to a stack of kids, and they were looking into Isak Christianson as the latest victim. The moon theory could narrow down that even more, making it easier to deduce information. There were very few things they could be sure of, but they could play the odds, something Mac was especially good at. The kid had good instincts too. With his smarts and his gut, Jack was confident Mac would do great things at the Phoenix Foundation. He was also great at improvising. When everything seemed to be going wrong, he’d always have a clever trick to get the team back on track. Jack couldn’t, and didn’t want to, deny that he was impressed. In fact, Jack had taken to bragging about Mac like he was his own kid.

Full of hope and frustration, the team was digging into the case files, seeing if the kidnapper had left any clues behind. It was their theory that the perpetrator had made a mistake in his latest kidnapping and had released Tommy Matthews to divert suspicion, which inadvertently had brought the mass kidnapper to light. _That bastard is going to jail and it’ll be his own stupid fault for thinking he could get away with it,_ Jack thought, _he may be smarter than the police but not the Phoenix Foundation._

Tommy had been found in Nebraska shortly after the kidnapping of five-year-old Isak Christianson, who lived in Mac’s home state of Pennsylvania, which the team didn’t think was a coincidence. The gap would have given the kidnapper enough time to kidnap Isak and then drop off Tommy in Nebraska. It was not determined whether there was a stop in between (but Mac was increasingly thinking there had not been).

The team wasn’t sure why specifically Tommy had been the child released, but they had several theories. The most prominent one being that the kidnapper had decided that Tommy was brainwashed enough that he wouldn’t give the police too much information, but he was young and confused enough that he’d send the police spinning in all directions. That was Mac’s theory, and Jack, having no better idea, went along with it until they had something better. Maybe the kidnapper simply didn’t like Tommy, or maybe Tommy had been misbehaving. With how little Tommy had given them, the exact circumstances were unclear. If their other assumptions were correct, the reason Tommy had been chosen wasn’t crucial information. It would help, yes, but they could manage without it.

Other variables were needed before they could solve the equation. Like what clues had been left when Isak had been kidnapped.

Mac nodded at the moon theory, “I think it has a connection, but I’d be surer if several other potential victims aligned with that theory.”

“Follow that lead after this meeting,” Matty instructed. “What else do we need to talk over?” They liked to get the main ideas off their chests in these meetings, and then they could do additional diving into them when they dismissed to do their assigned tasks.

“What went wrong with the Isak Christianson case?” Jack asked, trying to get the conversation going.

“It doesn’t seem like this guy left any trace,” Bozer commented, skimming over the evidence. “But something about the last kidnapping made the kidnapper change his normal ritual. Getting rid of a kid is a risky move. He had to have a reason for doing it.”

Riley answered, “Yeah, and he could have killed Tommy and disposed of the body in Nebraska to create the same effect, but he didn’t. I hate to say it, but it would have been safer to dump a body than a living, breathing kid with memories.”

“Which suggests that he cares about the kids. He doesn’t want them dead.”

“It’s back to the found family idea where for whatever reason, he wanted to create a family of his own of five-year-old boys. Why that age?” There were so many unknowns that it made Jack’s head spin.

“Maybe he had a kid that age himself, who he’s trying to replace. Or he could have had a traumatic memory from that age. It clearly means something to him, but it might not help us find him.”

Jack sighed, “Okay, then let’s go back to the Isak Christianson kidnapping. What was different then? What about that crime scene could expose this kidnapper. Or what other trigger would he have for releasing Tommy not long after he kidnapped the latest child. Tommy met the newest abductee. He told that to the police, so we know they were in the same place at some point, but I doubt they knew each other for long.”

Mac twisted a paperclip, shuffling through his memories and the missing kids’ files he had read. An idea sparked as he remembered one of the cases. “What if the problem isn’t what evidence the kidnapper left behind? What if nothing was different about the Isak Christianson crime scene? I think the problem was that it was the same”

“What do you mean?” It was hard to keep up with Mac, sometimes, because the kid thought in riddles and it was hard for anyone other Mac to know the answers.

“When we were gathering potential victims, there was another kid taken from Pennsylvania. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner, but a decade prior to Isak’s kidnapping, Peter Jennings was taken from his home in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, just five miles from where Isak was taken.” Mac looked through a stack of papers, searching for the information he needed, “The mistake was he kidnapped a case too close to home.”

Jack nodded, “This jackass probably saw Isak and couldn’t help but take him.”

“And, then, he realized that people might start linking the two kidnappings. Likely, most people, or the ones who mattered, would have just considered the two cases a tragic coincidence because who would assume two cases ten years apart were related? Cases like these often remain unconnected, but this guy’s paranoid, and he couldn’t take that risk. He’s so focused on himself that he feels like everyone is watching him, even though they are not. That’s his downfall—his inability to not see the whole world revolving around him. He was so worried with people making the connection that he created a red herring. He released Tommy in Nebraska, so we’d look away from Pennsylvania.”

 _Yes,_ Jack thought. _This could be it! This could be what we need to crack the case._ Jack shot up from his chair, automatically pulling Mac into a hug. The touch surprised Mac at first but he melted into it. “That could be it, man,” Jack praised. “We could finally have a location!”

“Boys,” Matty said, trying not to get too excited about the theory. “It’s a strong theory, but we need actual proof if we want to find this guy. You need to support this claim, Mac,” seeing the stress on Mac’s face, Matty added encouragement, which I know you can do. Dig into this lead and see if anything surfaces. We need to bring these kids home. This could be the biggest, most important case we’ve ever cracked.”

“I can look into men with jobs that allow them to travel because this guy clearly has been taking kids across state lines to divert attention, and he takes time choosing and taking his victims.” Riley added.

“Yes, that’s a good avenue to go down,” Matty said. “He likely stalks them for a while before he takes them. Looking at the Tommy Matthew’s crime scene alone, we can see that these aren’t impulsive abductions. They’re heavily planned. He sees the kid he wants, obsesses over him, and then puts a plan into place to take the child as his own.”

“He also has to have a place to put all his victims. We can look into owners of large, secluded properties, and go from there,” Jack suggested. “Maybe we can find where they are being kept.”

Mac agreed, “We can search in and around Lancaster and focus attention there. We’ll use age progressed pictures too and see if any of the locals have seen anything suspicious.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jack replied, feeling a nervous ball of hope growing in his stomach.

“Let’s hope something comes from this,” Mac said, sounding tired, “I don’t know how many dead ends I can handle.”

Jack gave him a reassuring grin, “Kid, don’t you worry about that. I have a good feeling about this. Besides, every dead end we wind up in is a dead end we can rule out. You can get a lot of information from the information you don’t have.”

* * *

“Dad, we need to talk,” Riley told her father an hour after the team meeting, pulling him into a private corner.

“What is it?” Jack asked. His daughter had a serious look on her face. Riley hadn’t been this stoic since she was sixteen and two weeks into mourning her mother. Jack would have known by now if someone important died, but whatever news this was, it wasn’t good.

“I looked into Mac’s father like you asked.” Jack felt his heart plummet into his stomach. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the information Riley was about to give him. “And I got some info back.”

“What did you find?”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t find anything, so I looked into Mac to see if I could find his father that way.”

Jack’s heart was thumping in his ears now “And?”

Riley took a deep breath, preparing herself to give her dad the information. “Angus MacGyver doesn’t exist either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I've had a little break from writing for a few days, but I am back to update some stories. I hope you enjoyed this, even though I do not have the knowledge to write case fics (it's fun to try though). Anyways, thank you lovely people for reading. Feel free to leave any feedback!
> 
> Next chapter: Are You There Michael? It's Me Jack- The missing kids are found, but is Michael one of them? And who is Angus MacGyver really?


	8. Are You There Michael? It's Me Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley and Jack discuss Mac seemingly not existing while the team gets closer to the truth about the Forced Family case...

“Angus MacGyver doesn’t exist either,” Riley confessed, and Jack’s eye glazed over in shock. He’d expected a dark back story, but the thing he’d been expecting least of all was _nothing._ The revelation was chilling.

 _How could a person not exist?_ Jack understood how a person couldn’t be found. He experienced with people who were lost, but everyone existed. People didn’t pop out of the blue without any identities. Mac existed as someone, even if it wasn’t as Angus MacGyver.

Thoughts rushed through Jack’s head. Was Mac scamming them? Had Jack fallen for a trick or a con? Had Riley somehow messed up the search? Something was up, but he couldn’t figure out what, and, frankly, with the stress and workload of the Forced Family case, he didn’t have the brain power left to figure out another mystery. He didn’t have the time or patience for this, but it also wasn’t something he could ignore. It was another damn problem he wasn’t sure how to handle.

Mac was a good guy. Jack had learned that. Surely, he had really been hurt by his father. The pain that had been on Mac’s face during the team bonding session couldn’t have been faked. No one could be that good at lying, could they? Besides, Matty didn’t hire people out of the blue. Matty had killer instincts, and she’d know if someone were a danger to their team.

Maybe Mac didn’t even know that he didn’t exist or maybe it was for a reason that wasn’t in Mac’s control. Jack refused to give more than a fleeting thought to the idea that Mac was up to something nefarious. He couldn’t believe that, not after he’d seen Mac breakdown, not after what Mac had said about his father. All the signs of a former abused child were there. Someone had hurt Mac, and whether his name was James MacGyver or not didn’t matter.

There were plenty of reasons that Angus and James MacGyver wouldn’t exist. Perhaps, while running from his father, Mac had changed his name in an elaborate scheme to not be found. It could just be Mac protecting himself, and Jack wouldn’t blame him for that. Mac certainly had the intelligence to run away and never be found.

Jack wasn’t sure what the situation was, but he knew he needed to get to the bottom of it so that he could ensure the safety of his team, and if Mac was in trouble, Jack wanted to fix it. But he had more important worries on his mind, like the serial kidnapper and the fact that Michael was potentially one of the victims of said kidnapper.

“Did you find anything at all, Riley? I need something here. This isn’t making any sense.”

“On the surface, he exists,” Riley further explained, “But if you do a deeper dive, his social security number does not lead to a living person. It was taken from a dead baby. No one alive is named Angus MacGyver. The same is true for James MacGyver. Actually, I can’t even find James at all. He’s a ghost, not even a stolen social security number for him.”

“Like I said before, sometimes a lack of information can inform you of a lot. It tells us that either Mac or his father have something to hide, and I’m sure it has something to do with his asshole father. That guy is no good. There’s no damn way Mac was making up that abusive piece of shit. He was genuinely traumatized. You can’t fake the kind of reaction the kid had.”

“Mac’s been using this identity since he got his driver’s license at eighteen. I can’t find really anything about him before that. It’s like he didn’t have a childhood. He must have led a very secretive life as a kid or didn’t take his new name until he was sixteen.”

“That helps. There’s still a lot of questions, but we aren’t without information, which is good.”

“What do we do about this?” Riley asked, sounding like a lost little kid, and Jack could relate to how she felt. The last thing they needed was another problem without answers.

“We put it on the backburner. I want answers too, but we’re close to finding those missing kids and that needs to be our priority. We’ll figure out who Angus MacGyver is once we close the case, okay.”

Riley nodded, “Okay, but dad, this whole thing is freaking me out.”

Jack pulled his daughter into a hug. The stress of the job was getting to them all, and Jack could tell that Riley was at her breaking point. “It’s okay, honey. It freaks me out too, but I don’t think Mac’s dangerous.” Mac was a puppy. Jack could see that now that they weren’t enemies. All he wanted was to do what was right, which was what Jack wanted too.

A sob escaped Riley, her head falling against Jack’s chest. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“What’s wrong, then?”

“What if Mac is in danger? Like witness protection or something? I think Mac changed his name because he didn’t want to be found. Maybe his dad is eviler than we thought.”

“I don’t know, Riles, but we’ll sort it out. We’ll make sure nothing happens to Mac. That’s what we do. We protect those who need protected, those within the team included. Our team is our family, and we keep our family safe. We never give up on family.”

“That’s true. I know we haven’t known him even six months, but Mac’s my friend, and I want him to be safe. I need to make sure nothing happens to him. For some reason, I feel obligated to protect him.”

“I know. Me too, and we’ll keep him safe.” Jack gave her one last squeeze and a kiss on the forehead. “Come on, darling, let’s get to work, and don’t mention any of this to Mac yet okay. I don’t want to spook him if we don’t have to. It’s best he doesn’t know we’re digging.

Riley thought for a moment. Finally, she said, “I’ll keep this quiet as long as you promise not to treat Mac like he’s a criminal. I don’t want you being suspicious of him, not for one moment.”

“I won’t, not unless I’m sure he is one.” Jack said that last bit to cover all his bases, to keep his professional exterior, but truthfully, he didn’t believe Mac had a bad bone in his body. _Hopefully, I’m not being conned. I pray my instincts are right. Let me be not be disappointed._

“He’s _not_ one,” Riley was firm, giving Jack a quick glare, warning him not to say another word on the matter, and despite his own uncertainties, he couldn’t help feel his daughter was right, so he kept his mouth shut, desperately hoping Mac was a lost soul and not a deviant one. Though, Jack knew that sometimes lost souls became deviant ones, and that was what made the world a scary place. Children who should have been protected, grew up to be villains. Most didn’t, but some did. Suffering could change a person for the worst. It could harden them and freeze their desire to do good.

* * *

In the war room, Mac and Jack narrowed down a list of parameters, talking through what they knew and could safely assume, so Riley could work her computing magic while Bozer sorted through the evidence in the potential cases to see if there were any connections they had missed. Mac and Jack had been over those files hundreds of times, but they knew it was easy to get so caught up in finding something that you missed that one thing that could break the case. Fresh eyes could be a lifesaver. Matty was on the phone to her higher ups, and by the sounds of it was making some very important men cry, nobody knew exactly why, but they trusted her to do her job.

The information they had seemed pathetic, but they hoped it would give Riley enough to work with. They were hoping for her to make a miracle. She’d done it before but never on a case as ginormous and not with as many lives at stake.

Once they were done giving Riley information, Mac and Jack went over to help Bozer and Matty got to work on something on her own laptop. Every so often, one of them would make a food or coffee run, but for the most part, they remained focus, fighting their fatigue and overworked brains. There was no time for rest. They didn’t want to leave the building until the whole thing was done. Those kids didn’t need to suffer more than they already had. They had to end the pain that one evil kidnapper had caused. So many parents deserved closure, and to have their babies back in their arms.

Eventually, the room grew silent as the group became laser focused, with only the clacking of keys and flipping pages to signify that they were still working. They were in the zone, and to an outsider, the sight would be awe-inspiring. Rarely, was this group of people so silent. There was usually at least a little chatter.

An hour later, “Guys!” Riley broke the silence, causing the whole room to become wide awake. “I think I found something.”

Jack bolted from his chair, going towards his daughter to see what she had found. Mac wasn’t far behind. “I found this one suspicious guy near Lancaster. He has, on numerous occasions, received noise complaints from the neighbors, who were said to have heard screaming. Child protective services was called on one of these occasions, only for him to tell them that he didn’t have any children in his house, which they confirmed with a home visit. An elderly neighbor has insisted there’d been a child on the property who wouldn’t stop yelling at the top of his lungs, but no child is reported to live there. No school records, nothing.”

“Maybe he was watching someone else’s kid,” Mac supposed.

“Could be, but other neighbors seem to think this guy is a father too and have heard him talk about his sons, not that anyone knows him that well. They assumed his ex-wife had custody of his kid, but there’s no records to support that kid exists. He’s a loner. No one in town really knows him, and he keeps under the radar like you would expect a guy hiding a bunch of kids on his property.

“Who is he? What’s his name?” Mac asked, vibrating at the idea that they might have finally caught one of the worst kidnappers of all time.

“That’s the thing. We don’t have a name for this guy. All we know is that he’s called Murdoc. Property records have him listed as Brian Jones, but I can tell you that’s not his real name. I need to do more digging, but from what I’m seeing, I suspect he makes his living in less than legal ways.” Mac wasn’t the only one who was coming up in Riley’s searches as not existing. This Murdoc guy was an even more complicated mystery.

It was Jack’s turn to ask a question. “What makes you think that he makes money illicitly?”

“He has a laundry machine business, but the books don’t add up. I think it’s a front for something not so clean, weapons or black market goods possibly.” _Sounds like a psychopath,_ thought Jack.

Mac couldn’t figure this Murdoc guy out. He was a strange mystery of a person, who didn’t seem like the type who would want to have a bunch of children around. “What would a guy like that want with children? Is he trafficking them?”

“From what I understand, Murdoc never has visitors, and for obvious reasons, the kids never leave the property. I suspect the kidnapping is just one of his evil hobbies, not a moneymaker. These kids are surrogates for his own son.” _Sounds like a psychopath,_ thought Jack, _not a heartsick, loving father._

“Wait,” Bozer said, confused, “I thought he didn’t have one.”

“I was getting there. He doesn’t have a son, not a living one, but under a different alias, Murdoc had a son, Cassian, who died over three decades ago at the age of, you guessed it, five.” _Oh, the plot thickens. Great, we’re living out a soap opera. No wonder it was so hard to find this evil bastard._

“You should have started with that, honey!” Jack said, feeling a rush of nervous enthusiasm. This could be their big break. There was a hopefulness in the air that had gone stale months prior, as the case seemed to go nowhere. Now, there was an answer nearly in their grasp. The case was coming together, and it energized the team. This was why they put in so many hours, so many hours that felt fruitless and made them go home feeling cynical and weary. All those emotions, all those answerless cases, were worth that one breakthrough.

“Then, you wouldn’t have listened to the rest of it,” Riley protested.

“That’s not true.” Jack replied stubbornly, knowing he was fibbing.

“She’s right, Dalton.” Matty knew Jack better than he liked to give her credit for. “You would have acted without waiting for all the information, which we all know is your major downfall.”

“Did the kid die on the new moon by chance?” Mac cut in, trying to figure out how the pieces all connected. The moon meant something. It had to. The pieces all had to connect somehow. There was no way that they were just coincidence.

Riley clicked at her computer and shook her head, “No, the day Cassian died was a full moon.”

“Well, twisted as it is, that makes perfect sense,” Jack said. “When one life ended, another began.”

Bozer still looked confused, “But why does he take so many kids? Why doesn’t he take one and be done?”

Jack shrugged, “Because he’s crazy?”

“No, I think he’s a bad, bad guy, but I don’t think he’s insane. I think he can’t help himself. It’s a ritual. He obsesses, he stalks, he plans, and when he gets what he wants, he needs to do it all over again. It’s a game for him. He likes the progress as much as the reward.”

Matty agreed, “It does seem that way.”

“We need to check out that property. Can we get local PD over to that house to search it?”

“Jack,” Matty reminded, “We need to give them probable cause. The police aren’t just going to raid a private property because we ask them politely.”

“I don’t care! Michael could be there.” Jack wish he’d taken a moment to check if his brother was kidnapped during the new moon, but he’d gotten caught up, and now his phone was dead after being at the Phoenix for hours, and his computer was in another room. “I’ll go there myself if I have to, and beat that SOB’s face in. Michael could be one of those kids. I won’t sit around and wait for probable cause and let those kids be with their captor for a minute longer than they have to.”

“Jack, calm down. You didn’t let me finish. I can’t tell the police to do anything, that’s true, not directly at least, but I do have some very important friends who owe me favors.” She gave her most badass look. Times like these made Jack absolutely adore Matty. She always had a way of getting things done, and she acted when her gut told her, not for one minute doubting her course.

Mac shot Jack a look, not yet used to Matty’s quiet power. Mac looked worried while Jack felt victorious. “Don’t ask questions, pal. It’s best to know only that Matty is the best in the business and not to concern ourselves with how she got there.” He gave Mac a wink to reassure the kid. Jack turned to his attention to Matty, “So, if the kids are there, we’ll be able to get them out?”

Matty nodded, “I don’t like to make promises, but you have my word.” And with that, the waiting began. No one went home. They remained at the Phoenix, trying to pass the time with chatter and pizza delivered from their favorite place. Jack ignored the Mac not existing issue because her was too nervous to think of anything other than the forced family case.

A anxious knot had formed in Jack’s stomach as he thought of his brother. He couldn’t stop imagining Michael. It was torture having to endure those hours, uncertain of the outcome, uncertain even that his brother would be among the kids found. But Jack could feel it. Kids were going to be saved sometime that night. Good things were about to happen, but of course, with vicious, selfish criminals like Murdoc, the situation could quickly go wrong with just one slip up from those involved. Murdoc could kill the kids if he got news that law enforcement was closing in, but Jack tried not to think of what could go wrong. He kept his head on the miraculous chance that things would go right because any found kid was a miracle in Jack’s book. Even found bodies were a blessing. The waiting, the twenty years of waiting were what agonized Jack and his whole family. _Wait a little longer,_ he told himself, _and you may finally have answers. Please, let me get answers._

He was tempted to call his mother, to sneak out information about the case he was working on, but he didn’t want to get her hopes up. If they found Michael, she’d be angry at Jack’s silence, but he couldn’t risk it. He was tempted, but he knew better. None of the information in the Phoenix Foundation could get out the public. It would risk the lives of potential survivors as well as add more injury to already hurting families if leads became false leads. Secrets were secret for a reason, one Jack couldn’t justify breaking.

Eight hours, dozens of cups of coffees, and 10,000 steps of Jack pacing, Matty walked into the room, a stoic expression on her face. “I have some news,” she said grimly. “My sources have confirmed that Murdoc is our guy. He’s been taken into custody, and he’s being interviewd,” a nice word for interrogated, “as we speak.”

“And the kids?”

“Twelve of the kids have been found alive.” Matty said, no joy on her face as she announced the news. “Unfortunately, another seventeen bodies were also found on the property.” Mac looked faint, face drooping at the thought of so many dead people. He remembered one time when his father had beaten him so badly he thought he was going to die. _You’re lucky to be alive. You’re lucky, son, that I keep you around. Some fathers aren’t so kind._ He didn’t want to think what Murdoc had done to those poor children. It made him itchy and sick to imagine so many bodies. Finding twelve living kids was joyous, but it did nothing to lessen the blow of seventeen kids that couldn’t be saved.

Jack dropped down to the seat behind him, barely making it into the chair. “My brother?” he asked breathlessly. Jack wanted answers, but he knew sometimes, people didn’t get the answers they wanted. He put his head in his hands, Riley curling up behind him.

“We don’t know yet. The living kids are too brainwashed to know their real identities, and so for the living and the deceased victims, we’re going to have to wait to match dental and DNA records. It shouldn’t be long. We’ll know who these kids are soon.”

“I need to see the kids.”

“Jack, I promise. You’ll be the first to know if any of the victims are Michael, but you need to follow my lead on this. Go home, get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a hard day, no matter what the outcome.”

“I’m staying here,” Jack remained firm.

“Me too,” Mac added in solidarity. “I’ll be here until all those kids get their names back because they deserve the identities that monster robbed them of. They deserve to be something beyond what he told them they had to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter is kind of not great, but I had fun writing it, so I guess that's all that matters. Anyways, I appreciate you all reading this and the next chapter will start to get to the questions you have left. Thanks so much for being so wonderful. Feel free to leave feedback xxx


	9. Little Boy Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack learns what became of his brother.

The team had fallen asleep, across different chairs and couches in the war room. Mac and Jack had fallen asleep next to each other, heads nudged together, looking particularly cozy. Mac was cuddly when he slept, curling against Jack, who seemed not to have the kid close by.

Matty snapped a picture with her phone, keeping the photographic evidence for the next potential argument that came between the two. That would break their bickering up real quick. Well, that was the excuse she would use if anyone saw it. She _definitely_ didn’t take the picture simply because the sight of her two boys nestled together like brothers warmed her heart. Nope, Matty _wouldn’t_ do something so sappy, she told herself.

They both looked so tranquil as they slept, a calmness that dissipated as they woke up and got into gear to take on every evil the world threw at them.

Knowing the grimness of their current case, Matty feared the peacefulness wouldn’t last. She had yet to get word about Jack’s brother, but she worried the news wouldn’t be good, and even if it was, Michael wasn’t going to be the same five-year-old Jack remembered. He’d be a stranger, practically, brainwashed to believe he was a completely different person. He’d be older, and who knew how he’d act when— if— he went home. Michael would be an adult, who had never had experience with the world beyond his kidnapper. That would have to cause problems that Matty couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Therapy would help, but it would take months, years, maybe forever for Michael to piece his life back together. Michael’s childhood had been stolen, and there was no getting that back. That’s the part of it all that Matty had little to do with. She couldn’t help the kids once they were home. She had to bring them back into the world, and hope they were okay.

The trauma the kids had endured had yet to be fully determined. The extent of Murdoc’s abuse on the kids still wasn’t clear. He was an evil psychopathic, they knew that, and they knew he beat the kids, used psychological manipulation, and erased their identities, but only time would tell how cruel, how damaging Murdoc had truly been.

Undeniably, Matty was glad to have found twelve living children, but the victory felt shallow because so much pain would endure long after the children went home, and they’d start a battle that Matty couldn’t help them with. If only they’d never been taken to begin with. If only she could have stopped the initial kidnapping because being found didn’t mean you stopped being lost.

* * *

The morning dragged on, eventually bringing the afternoon, but the team, dirty and exhausted from not having gone home, stayed in place, only shifting seats and chugging coffee to break up the languid waiting. They attempted idle chatter, but Jack was too antsy to stay still, and even Riley couldn’t remain calm enough to say calming words to her father like she usually did.

Riley wanted Michael back too, and she missed her uncle. While she didn’t remember much of him, his kidnapping had cast a shadow over so many things when she was young. It had made Jack overprotective, for one. It had made her more cautious. There was always a reminder that Michael was gone, that he had disappeared and never come back. For weeks after it happened, Riley had refused to sleep in her own room. She’d been afraid that she’d be kidnapped too. She hated to go to school, knowing the desk next to her would be empty. She’d lost her best friend before they’d had time to grow up together.

She’d been young enough to forget; yet, Michael couldn’t be forgotten. They didn’t know if he was dead or alive, but Riley felt Michael’s ghost looming like in her grandma’s house, where Michael’s room had become a shrine to the little boy, untouched and mostly unentered. Riley’s grandpa had died without answers, and she didn’t want her grandma to die the same way.

Plus, Jack needed Michael to be alive. He needed to know his little brother was not lost or hurting anymore. He needed to hold Michael again. Their whole family needed to the little boy, now grown, back at home. Riley knew that if Michael remained unfound that it would drive Jack crazy.

Jack had gone twenty restless years without answers, and it wasn’t fair to make him wait anymore. Wondering what happened, what Michael was like, cycled through Jack’s head and he couldn’t stop the useless game of what ifs that were more terrifying than comforting.

Sometimes, Jack tried to wonder what his brother would be like, but he couldn’t do it. It had been too long to know exactly who Michael would be, to imagine his favorite things or what made him the happiest. Trauma changed people, and dead or alive, Jack knew that Michael would have to be different. Jack was different too. His mom sure was. Even Riley was different.

Relatives of missing children lost part themselves too, parts that couldn’t always be recovered.

* * *

At two p.m., Matty got the call. She left the room discreetly and the sleepy team perked up, tension and fear building in their stomachs. Jack clasped his hands together in silent prayer. He wasn’t sure what God he was praying to, but he was praying, pleading really, for Michael to be one of the lucky ones. He wasn’t sure what the better second choice would be: Michael being dead or Michael not being one of the kids as all. Jack guessed he’d feel better about the latter. The mystery was worth the little nagging hope that Michael was still alive, even if it meant never having closure. Some things were better unknown.

The door unlatched, Matty slipping back into the war room, quietly like a cat. Jack leaped up from his chair, nowhere near as graceful as a cat, his heart banging against his chest and his mind unable to make sense of the world around him. Riley grabbed her father’s hand, clutching it with strength that Jack didn’t realize his daughter had. While Mac stood anxiously on Jack’s other side, Bozer was behind them, trying to read Matty’s face, but she was stoic, not revealing whether she had good or bad news.

“I’m sorry, Jack. It’s not good news,” She began, cutting to the chase. Jack could barely compute the word, pausing a moment to decode them from English into the language of anxiety and shock.

“He wasn’t one of the kids, was he?” Jack asked hopefully. His brother wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. Michael had to be alive. “I was wrong, wasn’t I? Murdoc didn’t take Michael. I’m not sure why I was so caught up in thinking that he had him? I just wanted answers, so I forced it to fit.”

Heartbreak flashed on Matty’s face. “I’m sorry to tell you, but we’ve matched your brother’s records to one of the deceased children.”

Jack fell back, his foot entangling around the leg of the coffee table, the force shaking the contents of the table. He fell to the floor, paperclips toppling from their glass bowl to the floor near his feet. Riley was beside him, her head against his shoulder, sobbing at the news. Jack’s face expressed nothing, too much in disbelief to speak words. _No,_ he thought, _that can’t be right. Michael can’t be dead. After all this time, he can’t be dead._

Mac staggered to the couch, wanting to give Jack his space. Michael was dead, and a pang of the deepest sorrow Mac had ever known hit him. The loss felt strangely personal, as if he had known Michael. Of course, he had not. But his imagination had allowed him to feel close to Michael. Just like he had only known Jack’s mother through a moment of misremembering, confusing her with a woman who had to be his own mother, who he could remember nothing of but her voice.

The room fell silent, until Jack finally muttered, “Who’s going to tell my mother?” and the room, barely held together, seemed to snap, shattering into tiny, sharp shards.

Mac put his head against the couch, tears dampening the fabric, unable to look at the faces around him. Grief was overwhelming. His friends were broken, and his empathy made it hard to handle all the emotional heaviness of the people around him. The pain in the air was paralyzing, but, of course, he wasn’t going to leave. The team needed each other now. They were family, family, something Mac had never truly had.

The door clicked open, and Mac heard heavy footsteps, but was too drained to lift his head from the arm of the couch to look at who it was.

Jack’s head snapped up and he snarled at the man, an intruder on the somber, quiet grieving of the room. The interloper was put together, dressed like he meant business, the kind of guy who was in charge of something important, though Jack couldn’t say what.

“Now’s not the time,” Matty told the man firmly, ready to send him away. Jack noticed she knew him, and curiosity got the better of him. Yeah, he felt like shit, but Jack needed to know why some random man was standing in the war room, and why he was looking carnivorously at Jack’s family.

“No, it’s okay, Matty. I want to know who this man is.”

Matty sighed. “Okay. I guess we might as well get introductions out of the way.”

Matty continued, and Mac forced himself to look. “Let me introduce you all to my boss, Michael James.” Seeing cool eyes staring at him, Mac shot from the couch, standing attentively like a soldier.

Memories echoed through his brain. _Behave, son, or you’re in for a lot of pain._

The man’s hair was grayer now, and he had more wrinkles, but there was no mistaking that standing in front of them was James MacGyver. James shook everyone’s hands, and when he got to Mac’s the icy grip made Mac sick, and before he knew it, he was throwing up all over his father’s favorite shoes.

Mac wanted to scream. He had been found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooops. I was going to call this chapter: "Little Boy Still Lost" but then I veered off course. This is not how the plot was supposed to go, but you know, sometimes you're just writing, and it hits you that what you thought you wanted isn't actually what you're going to do. I hope you liked it. Please tell me your thoughts!


	10. James MacGyver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Jack need to deal with James

The room was tense and silent in the midst of Mac’s reaction to James MacGyver AKA Michael James. Before anything could be said, Mac ran from the room and into the bathroom. His chest was tight, having constricted after seeing his father for the first time in years. After wiping his face off with a paper towel, he slid down the wall onto the grimy tile floor, trying to catch his breath. He began to sob, not knowing what made him so upset— the fact this his father had found him or the thought of what James would do to Mac for throwing up on his expensive shoes.

He squeezed his eyes, trying to get himself under control. _Don’t be a baby. Get yourself together, you little nuisance._ Mac startled at a hand touching his arm, and he was relieved to see that it was only Jack, crouching down to see if he was okay. “Are you okay?” Jack asked then shook his head, “Well, obviously you’re not okay. Want to tell you what’s got you so upset?”

“That man— Michael James or whatever he’s calling himself— that’s my father.” _I am and always have been your father. You only get one, kid, and it's me._

“ _That’s_ your piece of shit father?” Jack asked, eyes hardening at the thought. “I’ll show him a piece of my mind just you wait.”

“You can’t. He’s our boss.” _I'm the boss of you. You can never beat me. I will always win, so you might as well not play the game._

“That won’t stop me," Jack said, fists balling up.

“Jack, we need to be smart about this. You’ve already had a hard day, and now’s not the time to get involved with my stupid problems. You should go home— to Texas— and then we can deal with this once you’re feeling a little better, or I can just deal with it myself. I've done that all my life.”

“I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“But your brother—”

“My brother is the reason why I won’t let another kid in this world be hurt, not if I can help it.”

“I’m not a little lost boy. I’m a grown man. It’s too late to save me.” _It's too late for you. You're damaged goods._

“It’s never too late, you hear me? It’s not too late.”

“My dad isn’t going to leave my life without a fight. He’s smart and very connected.” _I'll never leave._

Jack sighed. “He is a sneaky bastard, isn’t he? I guess that’s why Riley couldn’t find anything when she searched his name with her alger-, algar-, algorithms or whatever. He’s a ghost, a chameleon. James MacGyver is not a real person."

Mac looked up, “What? He doesn’t exist?”

“I figured it all out. His real name isn’t James MacGyver, is it, and yours isn’t Angus MacGyver? You’re running from something, maybe him, so you had to change your name? Is that what happened?” Jack wasn't sure his theory was correct, but it was the best one he had. He needed to show Mac that he understood, let Mac know he didn't have to hide anymore.

Mac shook his head, confused at why Jack would think that “No, that’s not how it is. I ran away, I guess, but I didn’t change my identity. I wanted to get away with him, and I thought if I just kept under the radar that he’d never find me or care to find me. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Matty introduced him as Michael James, so I’m assuming that’s his real name, though?”

“No, James MacGyver _is_ his real name. Michael James is the fake one.” Mac wasn’t sure what was going on, but none of it made any sense. Jack must have been mistaken.

“Mac, man, that can’t be it. After all you told us about him, I had Riley look him up, and he doesn’t exist. Her searches came up with nothing.” Jack was shocked. Did Mac really not know that his father was an entirely different person? Did Mac even know that his identity wasn’t real either? _What is going on?_

“What do you mean ?” Mac’s brain was slow with all the anxiety weighing on his mind, unable to make sense of what Jack was saying.

“James MacGyver is a fake identity.” _I’m your real father. I’ve always been your real father, Angus. Never forget that._

“It can’t be. He’s my dad, Jack. I would know whether or not he exists, and he 100% exists. I have scars to show he exists. He has a job and a life, all under the name James MacGyver.”

“So, you’re not using a fake identity?” _You’re name is Angus now._ The memory flashed in Mac’s mind, and it scared him. What was he forgetting? There was something trying to get out, memories all locked up, but he wasn’t sure he wanted them, not if they would destroy his whole perception of self.

Rage fueled Mac. He had to be imagining things. He was Angus MacGyver, no one else. The female voice blasted through his mind again. _I love you, Mackie._ No, not Mackie. _I love you, Mikey._ Michael. _No_ , Mac assured himself, _I can’t be Michael._ He expressed his disbelief in a clipped tone. “Why would you even ask that? I’m not someone else. Just because my dad is an asshole doesn’t mean that I’m a criminal or a con or whatever it is you think I am. Are you going back to thinking the worst of me? Because if so you might as well leave now and leave me to have my mental breakdown in peace.”

“Mac," Jack said gently. "I don’t think you’re a criminal. I thought you were using a fake name because you were in trouble, but apparently that’s not the case.”

“A fake name? What the hell are you talking about?” _You’re Angus now. Use the name Angus. Michael doesn’t exist._ Mac’s breathing picked up. _No, this isn’t happening._

“When we were looking your father up, Riley discovered that your identity isn’t connected to a living person.”

“Do I have to show you my social security number? Or my birth certificate? I have evidence that I’m exactly who I say I am.” _I'll tell you exactly who you are._

“That’s the problem. Those documents aren’t real. Your social security number was stolen from a dead baby.”

“No, I don’t believe you.” _Stop crying, boy._

“I’ve been a jerk, I know, but just ask Riley and she’ll tell you what I’m saying is true. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but I want to find out. There’s something your dad isn’t telling you, and I'm not sure what, but it's gotta be bad. He’s hiding you from someone and he’s hiding himself. I have a feeling he’s been doing that your whole life.” _I’m your father now. Your mom is dead, and I’m all you have left. Forget Michael Dalton. Forget that child ever existed._

“Jack,” Mac said, barely able to get a breath out, “I’m scared.” _Don’t be scared, little guy. Come with me and you’ll be okay. Your parents are dead, and I’m going to be your daddy now. You’ll forget they ever existed. Be quiet, or the people who killed them, will kill you too. Hush, now, you’ll forget all this soon._ _Stay very quiet._ He remembered James stuffing his favorite giraffe in his mouth to silence his little sobs. _You’ll get hurt if don’t stay very quiet._ He always loved that giraffe, and it was still packed away in a box full of cherished artifacts of his childhood. _You’re too old for stuffed toys_ , and Mac had hidden the animal away, only taking comfort in it when he knew his father had gone away.

Jack pulled him in for a hug, rubbing circles in Mac’s back. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“Jack, that’s not what I’m worried about right now.”

“What is it?”

Mac paused, knowing he was about to sound like a crazed lunatic because the memories he was having couldn’t possibly be real. He was imagining things. He was putting himself into a narrative that made his trauma easier to deal with. “Your brother didn’t happen to have a stuffed giraffe, did he?”

Jack’s heart froze. It was too soon to be talking about Michael. He was still raw from learning that his brother was dead. He still could hardly believe the news, and now Mac was making those feelings come tumbling back. “How did you know that? Was it in the police reports?” Jack sagged against the wall, “He carried that thing with him everywhere. It went missing with him. It always made me feel better thinking he had it. I gave it to him when he was three, you know, and I guess it felt like even if I couldn’t be there that I was still with him. It’s stupid—”

“It’s not,” Mac cut in. “It’s not.”

“But we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”

Jack rose from the ground, turning on the tap, and splashing water on his face, trying to contain himself and the raw feelings that were forceful against his skull. He had to focus on Mac. Mac needed him now while Michael was already gone. He needed to focus on the imminent threat. Mac stood up too, positioning himself in front of the mirror, so that he could only see Jack’s reflection. He couldn’t look Jack in the yes for this. _I told you that you’re to go by Angus MacGyver. You’re my son. Your mother is dead, and I am your father. It’s us against the world. There’s no one else on your side._ Mac looked down. “His name, the giraffe was Peter, named after Spiderman. I used to be obsessed with Spiderman, but you know that.”

Tears sprung to Jack’s eyes as he pulled Mac around to face him. Jack rested his hands on Mac’s shoulder, looking Mac in the eyes. “What are you trying to say.”

A tear slipped down Mac’s face, “Jack, I don’t think you’ll believe me,” he knitted his fingers together as if in prayer. _Don’t mess this up._ “But I think I might be your brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if that's what you were hoping for expecting, but there it is. Let me know how you liked it, lovely people. It wasn't that shocking, but it's the realization I think you've all been waiting for.


	11. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens. Jack loves Mac, though, and that's all that really matters.

“You can’t be my brother,” Jack said, disbelieving but not angry. He was confused above all. The facts weren’t lining up. Mac knew things that only Michael could have known; yet, it was confirmed that Michael was dead.

“I don’t know, Jack, but I remember your mom. I remember her calling me Mikey, and I remember my giraffe. I still have that giraffe because sometimes as a kid, it felt like he was the only one who loved me, and I—” Mac stopped himself, trying not to break down again. He was emotionally fragile because of James’ arrival, and everything felt topsy-turvy in a way that a Swiss army knife couldn’t fix. “I think I remember him kidnapping me. It’s blurry, but I remember my dad telling me that my family was dead and that he was my father now. My memories are a bunch of jigsaw puzzle pieces, but they have to mean something. And my dad, the name he gave himself was Michael James. What if he did that because I am Michael and I knew him as James. He’s smug enough to do something like that. He loves playing those kinds of games.” Mac took a deep breath, “Maybe that’s why I don’t exist.” Mac still couldn’t believe that he had been kidnapped. Surely, he had to be losing his mind, but it made so much sense.

“But what about Murdoc?” Jack asked. “He and your dad have to be connected somehow.”

“Maybe they’re just a couple of criminal friends. I don’t know. My life has been a lie, I know that much, and I finally think I’m finding answers.”

Jack looked at him, eyes watery and devastated. He looked at the blonde hair and blue eyes before him, and thought of the kid’s big brain, and it struck him that that’s exactly what Michael would be like, so was it really that unfathomable that Mac could really be Michael? Jack was starting to think it wasn’t. His heart hammered at the thought of his baby brother being alive and working with him for several oblivious months, and his heart sunk at the memory of everything Mac’s dad had done to him. Jack hated to think his brother had been raised by such a vile man while his saint of a mother had been deprived of raising her sweet little boy. “I don’t know, kid.” Jack couldn’t help it, he pulled Mac into a hug, letting the kid’s thin body collapse against his. “Maybe you are Michael. You sure look like him, and you’re the right age. I hate to admit it, but it all makes sense.”

“Maybe I’m going crazy.” Jack stroked the kid’s hair, taking in his smell and feeling Mac’s body against his. Michael wasn’t a little boy anymore. He was grown, and Jack had missed years of giving him hugs, of getting to know him, of being there for when he got hurt.

“Then, I’m going crazy right with you. But it doesn’t matter who you are. I’m going to get to the bottom of this because you need answers. We all need answers.” Jack didn’t want to get his hopes up. He didn’t want to be disappointed when Mac turned out to not to be Michael, but Mac being his brother felt so right, Jack realized. He wanted to be Mac’s brother whether they were related by blood or not.

“How?”

“We’ll get Jill to run a secret DNA test, and we’ll go from there. James can’t get wind of this, so while we’re in this building, we need to keep our lips sealed, got me?” Then he added, “And no matter what the results, I want you to know that you’re mind, kid. You’re my responsibility, and I’ll protect you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Mac nodded, touched at the sentiment. He melted into Jack’s hold, squeezing him just a little tighter. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He ruffled Mac’s hair, “Now, come on, I have to get back to the war room and try to get to the bottom of what’s going on. Go see Jill in the lab and fill her in on what’s happening. She owes me one, and I can trust she’ll keep this between us. I’ll be there as soon as I can get away.”

“The DNA will probably take at least a day.”

“We have time, and we need to take it because if you’re dad is part of some kind of kidnapping conspiracy, he’s not going to be easy to bring down.”

“Are we going to tell the rest of the team?”

“We can trust them, I know that, and we need them to get to the bottom of this, but we also need to be careful where we talk. We don’t know who might be watching. Your dad could have spies in this building.”

“After we take care of the things we need to here, we can meet at my house, tell my dad we’re tired after waiting up all night and then work in privacy.”

“Sounds good, Hoss. Be careful.” Jack said, not wanting to lose his bother before he even officially found him.

“You too.”

Mac left the bathroom first, hurrying to the lab while Jack snuck back into the War Room, where Matty and was still talking to Mac’s dad in a heated tone. There was something they hadn’t told the team yet. Matty looked angry while James was trying to calm her down. Riley and Bozer were standing off to the side looking uncomfortable, faces scrunched in worry. “Is Mac okay?” Bozer asked, Riley looking equally curious.

“He’s fine,” Jack assured. He resisted shooting James a scathing look. “He just had a bad memory.” Jack turned to James, breaking his conversation with Matty. “It seems that you and his dad wear the same aftershave.”

Matty filled in, “His dad was an abusive bastard.” Jack nearly busted at the irony. He suppressed his rage, knowing he had to play cool until Michael, or James, or whatever his name was, was gone. “But that’s a conversation for another day. We have more important matters to deal with.”

James spoke next, the words filling the air with a cool blast. “The police had to let Murdoc escaped.” Jack swore he saw a grin creep onto the man’s face, and he wanted to beat the snide expression right off him, knowing that bastard was what Mac had to deal with for at least twenty years. He was the reason that the only love Mac got was from a stuffed toy, and it made Jack sick… and oh so angry.

* * *

The team, now fully informed of the situation, had gathered at Mac’s house to try to make sense of the situation. Riley had been looking at Mac for over an hour, uncertain of what to make of him. He could be her uncle, and she could hardly believe her eyes, hardly believe that he had been there all along.

“Our boss was your dad, err, kidnapper?” Bozer asked dumfounded, still not absorbing all that he had heard. “How is this all possible?”

“We have to wait for the DNA results, but it all adds up.” Jack told them.

“And I can’t explain why else I would be getting all these memories. I didn’t have them until I started working here and saw a picture of Jack’s mom. That must have triggered things I had repressed.”

Matty didn’t look as shocked as everyone else. “Seems logical, incredible but logical.” She took control of the room. “Now, let’s address the Murdoc situation. No one’s safe while that psychopath is on the loose.”

“Our job isn’t to hunt down criminals,” Riley answered, unsure they could deal with Murdoc. “We find kids, not escaped convicts.”

“We protect kids,” Matty corrected, “And today we protect them by getting Murdoc and Mac’s father off the streets.”

“Let’s do it then,” Mac said spiritedly. “Let’s find a way to make things right for all the families those men hurt.” _Especially_ , Mac didn’t say, _my own._

* * *

It was 4 am and Jack’s phone rang, and he immediately picked it up when he saw it was Jill calling. “Hello,” he said groggily, hoping she’d called to tell him the results of the DNA test. He’d told her to call him night or day once the results had come in, and while he hadn’t expected that call to come in so early in the morning, he wasn’t going to complain.

“Hello, Jack,” a dark voice came over the phone. Murdoc. He spoke, with a calculated coolness and an almost flirtatious tone. “Jill is unavailable right now. She’s been hard at work in her lab, coming across truths that were better off unknown. She found a little lost boy who was meant to stay dead. Jill is dead, and Michael— or should I call him Mac— is next, and this time his death will be more than a falsified match. This time, your brother is going to stay dead, but of course, first I’ll have a little fun because I nearly took him for myself twenty years ago, but I let that particular thrill go to an old friend of mine in exchange for a favor, which I only recently cashed in.” Murdoc giggled. “It helps to have friends in high places. Hope you bid your brother farewell because you’ll never hear from him again. You’ll be lucky if you find the body.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, this end might make some of you scream, but I will be back to bring the feels and let you all be at peace because I mostly believe in happy endings, so unless I'm feeling particularly evil no one (except Jill RIP) is going to die. Anyway, I do hope you liked it and love hearing your reactions to all the insanity I throw at you. Thanks so much for reading wonderful people!


	12. Going Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion I think you've all been waiting for!

Murdoc laughed at Mac tied to a chair, bruises already starting to from on his face, a knot on the back of his head from where it had hit the floor. “This is going to be so much fun, Angus. You’re the perfect victim, really. You take a while to break, but when you do, oh boy, do you break.” Murdoc patted his own back, “It’s such an accomplishment to break the stubborn ones. Jill, she was no fun. I could see her terror right away. She gave in immediately, so I just had to kill her. It would have been joyless to drag it out when I knew I had you to look forward to.”

Mac said nothing, couldn’t say anything with a gag in his mouth, so he let Murdoc continue his evil monologue while Mac worked to free himself from his binds with a paperclip he’d slipped from his pocket. His Swiss Army Knife must’ve fallen out, but at least he had something to work with. Murdoc pulled out a piece of paper, waving it tauntingly. “She had just finished the DNA results when I got to her, and I really can’t let it get out that Michael Dalton is still alive. Your father, well sort-of-father, and I worked very hard to keep that secret. Poor Gregory Welsh’s family will never know what happened to him,” Murdoc shrugged cavalierly, “Oh, well, sacrifices must be made.”

Mac couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Murdoc was a real wacko. “Oh, Angus, I do love how much fight you’ve got in you. Good old James really did a number on you.” He stroked Mac’s hair, “I wish I had taken you for myself, but I already had another boy your age in mind that year, so I pawned you off on a friend of mine. As you can tell, Gregory didn’t work out so well. I had to kill that little best. He was such a nuisance, and not the fun kind, but you would’ve been perfect.”

Mac distracted himself from Murdoc’s grating voice by trying to figure out his surroundings. The walls were stone, but beyond that, there weren’t many distinguishing features. Maybe an old warehouse or otherwise abandoned building, but beyond that, Mac couldn’t deduce much. He’d been knocked out with a drug of some sort, so his head was hazy and he couldn’t focus as well as he would have liked, but he was trying his best to free his arms and somehow knock Murdoc out, so he could untie his legs and make a run for it because it didn’t seem that Murdoc was going to leave him alone anytime soon, so he’d have to take the risk of fighting Murdoc, who was talking Mac’s ear off. Murdoc liked his own voice way too much.

Eventually, Mac got his hands free, but he held them in position so that Murdoc wouldn’t notice until an opportunity arose. “Your brother is going to be so devastated that he lost you just after he found you. And to be honest, it might fun to see James behind bars, but he’s a long time ally of mine, and enemies require so much more effort as I’m sure you know. It’s much easier to love than to hate. Apathy is the way I prefer.” Murdoc yawned, “I’m exhausted just thinking about it.” He ripped the tape off Mac’s mouth, and it stung, but Mac didn’t show it. “Monologues are so boring. Have anything to tell me, Angus? I’d love to hear you speak words before I make you scream.”

“You probably already know this,” Mac said dryly. “But you’re batshit crazy.”

Murdoc laughed, putting his face eerily close to Mac’s. “You’d be an enemy worth keeping. It’s a shame I have to kill you.”

“But first you’re going to torture me?” Mac asked, but before Murdoc could answer, he took his chance and swung for Murdoc’s ugly mug. Legs still bound, Mac did his best to fight, him and Murdoc becoming a tangle of limbs as they each attempted throwing punches. They were both clumsy in their efforts, and it was almost comical to see Murdoc reduced to school yard style fighting.

As Mac tried to kick and punch his opponent, Murdoc did so with all his available limbs, finally pinning Mac to the ground, blood dripping from Murdoc’s nose onto Mac’s neck. “You think you’re so clever, Boy Scout. Well, looks like you’re not used to fighting back. Much better at taking punches, huh?” Murdoc whipped out a knife, silver and glistening even in the dull light. “I was saving this for a little game later, but I guess we can start now.” He put the blade to Mac’s chest, ripping his shirt open but purposely leaving nothing but a long, shallow scratch. He worked his way up to Mac’s neck, pressing a little deeper, blood pooling and running in a rivulet between Mac’s pecs. Murdoc followed the blood trail, tracing wherever the blood oozed with additional scratches, all shallow but all very painful.

He ripped open the sleeves of Mac’s shirt, leaving scratches there too. Mac tried to move, but Murdoc had him pinned, and if he moved too much, the knife might slip and do more damage than little cuts. Murdoc was methodical, leaving swirls, abstract art, on Mac’s arm, giggling between cuts. He admired his handiwork, “Torture is a real art form, my friend.”

Murdoc’s eyes blazed with a special kind of evil, and Mac’s heart halted for a second as he realized he was going to die. He always knew it was a possibility, but now, it felt certain. Murdoc brought the knife to hover over Mac’s face. “Hush, my boy, it will be over soon. But first, I have to do something about that pretty face.” The knife was cool against his cheek, but then, it lifted. “Where to start?” Murdoc asked himself. “Where to start?”

The question remained unanswered as Mac heard the door bang open and a team of people rush in. Murdoc made a move towards, preparing the knife to plunge into Mac’s heart, and from the corner of his eye, Mac saw Jack. _My brother will save me._ Jack yelled something, and the world seemed to move in slow motion but in double speed all at once. This was what happened before people died, Mac thought. _I’m going to die, and Jack’s going to watch. Jack won’t make it if I die before he saves me. He’ll never forgive himself. I’m not worth the guilt and sorrow he’ll feel._ Then, Murdoc’s body was falling backwards as red pooled on his chest and the knife clanged against the ground. _Jack saved me._

Mac was pulled to a sitting position as people he didn’t know, probably paramedics with many sets of handcuffs, took Murdoc away. Jack held Mac, clutching him tightly, while someone else unbound Mac’s feet. All Mac could focus on was the feeling of Jack’s strong body against his, his hands running through Mac’s hair in a comforting way Mac had never known. “I’ve got you, buddy. I’ve got you.”

“The son of a bitch isn’t dead, Jack,” someone distant said, sounding disappointed. “You missed his heart.”

“He doesn’t have one,” Mac heard, and it took him too long to realize that he’d been the one to say it.

The world blurring around him, Mac was ushered away by the paramedics, Jack never leaving his side, rambling away about things Mac couldn’t focus on but were comforting all the same.

* * *

Mac had to stay for observation because of his concussion and to make sure none of the cuts got infected. None were too deep, but a few had required stitches, and there were a lot of them littering Mac’s arms and torso, so infection was a very real concern of the doctors, and Mac was too tired to fight them on the matter. Besides, there was no way Jack was going to let him leave.

The team had been hovering and had gone to pick up some dinner after being at the hospital for hours. Jack had stayed. Mac didn’t think he’d even gotten up at all in four hours.

“You going to stay here forever?” Mac asked, not wanting to Jack to spend all his time in a stuffy hospital room. He felt awful for being such a burden. _I have better things to do than sit here with you while you’re sick. You’re useless to me like this. Take care of yourself and then come back to me when you can do something— anything._

“I don’t want to leave you,” Jack admitted, “but don’t worry, when the others get back, I’ll take a little break.“ Jack sighed, clearly torn about letting Mac out of his sight. “I have to go call mama to tell her you’re safe.”

“Jack, no. You can’t tell your family about this, especially not your mom.”

“She’s your mom too, and if you think I’m not going to tell my mama about this, you’re crazy, Hoss.”

“Please. I’m not saying to not tell her for forever, but I’m not ready yet. If you tell her, she’s going to want to meet me, and I—”

“Damn right she’s going to want to meet you! She’ll hop on the next plane to Texas, or if it’s faster, she’ll drive here herself.”

“I’ll see her later, I promise, but right now, I can’t. I know it’s selfish, but I just need a little time to figure this all out.” It wasn’t like Mac to put himself first, but he was being driven by fear, paralyzed by the anxiety that came with having to meet his long-lost mother. _Your mother is dead. Forget about her. She’s forgotten about you. She never liked you, anyway. Who would?_

“She’s your mother!” Jack exclaimed, trying to remain patient. “She’s great with people, always empathetic and she’s got saint level patience. There’s no better person to spend time with when you’re feeling overwhelmed.”

“She’s a stranger.”

“This woman has been praying to find you for twenty years.” 

“I’ve forgotten her for twenty years. Things have changed since she was reading me bedtime stories and telling me she loved me.”

“Do you know how much pain this has caused her? She left your room untouched. She stayed in the same old house just in case you came home one day. She’s desperate to have her child back, I’m not going to put her through another day of wondering. I love you, but I can’t do it. You didn’t see her when you were taken. I never thought she’d recover, and she never fully has.”

Mac fidgeted because of the confrontation, but he wasn’t going to relent, not yet. He’d rolled over and taken it long enough. “Don’t I get a say in this? My life was robbed from me. You had a funeral, and you can’t just expect me to meet a woman I never met and be the little boy she lost.”

“It was a service to honor your life, not a funeral, and Mama’s getting older. My pops died without having you back, and Mama won’t have forever either, buddy. I’m not going to keep from my mother the one thing that will make her happy. She deserves to finally release the breath she’s been holding.”

“If I’m the one thing that makes her happy, then she lives a pretty sad life,” Mac said, trying to inflict a little hurt.

“Don’t talk about her like that. It’s unfair of me to keep this from her. You have to see that it’s unfair.” Jack took deep breaths, trying to keep his voice calm. He couldn’t lash out at Mac and wouldn’t forgive himself if he did.

“Everything about this is unfair.”

“I know it is. I know, but I need to bring you home.”

“Fine,” Mac said firmly. “We’ll compromise. You can tell her whatever you want, but you can’t make me see her, and don’t you think not being able to see me will hurt more than letting her think I’m dead?”

“Why are you being such a brat?” Jack asked, letting his anger get the best of him, and quickly getting it under control, but it was too late. The words were already out there, hanging between them. _Be patient, Jack. He’s been through a lot. Don’t push him more than he’s ready to be pushed._

“Because I was kidnapped, Jack—twice— and my whole life’s been flipped upside down. My dad—”

“That man wasn’t your dad.”

“He’s the only dad I remember.”

“Your dad was a good man. That bastard who took you…” Jack shook his head, unable to finish. “We thought you were dead.” Jack had always held out hope, but there was always a part of him, a small part of him, that feared the worst, that knew the statistics on stranger abductions.

“You thought I was dead? So what? I wished I was dead. There were times when I thought I might be happier that way because my dad was such an asshole, and I wanted it all to stop. I’ve made peace with being unwanted and parentless, and now, the life that was taken from me is being thrown in my face. And what happens when your mom meets me and realizes I’m not what she wanted? I can’t live up to Michael because I’m not a perfect little dead boy. I’m an adult who makes mistakes and gets angry. I do stupid things, and I’m broken. I’m broken, and no one wants a broken man for a son.”

Jack melted a little as realization dawned on him, his anger fading. He should have seen the fear on Mac’s face sooner, but his own pain had blinded him from understanding Mac. Jack leaned close to Mac, the closest he could manage to a hug with the tubes and wires connected to Mac. “I’m sorry. I know it’s probably intimidating, but you’re not broken, and if Mama could only love perfect sons, she sure couldn’t love me because I’m broken, Mac. I’ve seen war and I’ve seen some of the worst crimes against children a person could see, and I can be a hotheaded asshole, but Mama still loves me because that’s what good mothers should do. She doesn’t want you to be perfect, Mac. She just wants you, no strings attached. Mama’s real nice, Mac. You don’t have to worry about meeting her.”

“I don’t want to remember her. Good things didn’t happen when I tried to remember my mother,” Mac said stubbornly, but he didn’t have much fight left in him. He was getting very sleepy. _I’ll beat you until you forget._

“James is gone now. He can’t hurt you anymore, but Mama? She’s still hurting. Mothers don’t get happy endings like this enough. I just want her to have a happy ending, but if you’re not ready for it, she’ll understand. She’ll understand why you needed more time.”

Mac sighed, heart twisting in his chest. “Fine, I’ll see her,” he relented. As scared as he was, he couldn’t put that woman through more pain. She deserved the truth as much as he did.

“Thank you,” Jack said. “I really appreciate it. She’ll really appreciate it. You’re a good kid.” Wistfully, he added, “You’ve always been such a good kid.” When Mac didn’t reply, Jack said, “I love you,” but Mac had already drifted off the sleep.

* * *

Many hours later, after drifting in and out of sleep all day, Mac woke to Jack escorting a vaguely familiar form into the room. The woman was older than he remembered with tears in her still soothing eyes, her weight supported by Jack as she tried to walk on unsteady legs to reach her son. She fell apart as she reached his bed, gripping the edge to hold her up as she finally saw her child after missing him for so long. “Mikey, my dearest Mikey,” she cried.

Almost tentatively, she reached for him, trying not to hurt any of his wounds. Gently, she touched him, kissing a bare spot on his head, unmarked by blemishes or bruises. “I love you, Mikey,” she said, _I love you, Mikey, my smart, sweet little boy._

His mother held him, and he felt Jack on his other side, clutching his hand, a tear rolling down his face. _I love you._ They were gentle with him. They didn’t hurt him. They were his family. “I love you,” his mother repeated. “I love you, I love you, I love, “she couldn’t stop saying, kissing his head with each repetition.

 _I love you, Momma,_ he remembered saying once, but his throat was dry, and he couldn’t say the words back to her. All he could do was cry, a pained but relieved cry. He was back in his mother’s arms. _I love you._ He was loved. He was safe. Michael had been found, and Mac was finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's a wrap, everyone. You are all the best readers a girl could ask for, and I love you dearly. I hope you enjoyed this and liked how I wrapped things up. The sequel is on the way soon, so let me know if there's anything you want to see in that. Anyway, there you have it. Mac's finally been found and is home, but obviously still has a lot of trauma. I was going to put more angst in but decided I've put all you readers and Mac through enough ;). Let me know what you think. xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Well another AU I didn't really need to start. Let me know your thoughts!


End file.
